#A TRUE TEARJERKER THIS FIC IS !!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mochinon-yah · 1 year ago

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I wanna write my reaction here just like the first special fic lol (anyway it's down below!!!)

But if i have to compare this fic to all the other fics, the angst part here was lower than the neuvi one. It's not sadder and i'm thankful for that 💪 no need to cry more after watching some of the absolutely tearjerker korean or chinese dramas

(Hehe sorry for writing this late TwT)

Okay, maybe it wasn't that sad— BUT TBH I COULDN'T GET THE FEELS SINCE I'M READING IN PUBLIC 😭✋️ i was mostly focused on being 'nonchalant' so that people wouldn't stare when i was reading lmao

Anyway, i love the fairy-tale like feeling of the fic cuz it had the charm of making it shine? Wait no, i guess the right word is magical-ish? Yeah, that's right. Btw, just letting you know ansy, the drawings are amazing, okay!!! I wished it was colored very gently, like a soft desaturated color, but when i think about the fic as whole, without color is possibly the right thing.

OH and i guess the one thing that almost make me cry is the part when dain was singing "happy birthday" to himself bcuz no, that should not be him. Man is already sad in canon, does he have to be sad too in fanon 😞 id feel bad cuz y/n in this fic sounds so sweet too. When you write that he was longing for death, i guess that's literally the realest possible ending for him here. Longing for something, but cannot truly get it. Just like how he is with y/n

OKAY, NOW'S THE TIME FOR FUN! I literally went thru so many downgrade lol from being human to being all sort of stuff, especially being a hilichurl in the end. If i was dain, id just be locking y/n in a room so i could keep them forever, but there's no need for me to take care of them. WAIT, DOES HILICHURL NEED TO EAT??? I'm imagining y/n as a hilichurl peeing so suddenly and dain is just the tired babysitter wanting his y/n in their true form (a human i mean). But, does a hilichurl function normally like a human bcuz they're human before or are they not? Okay, that's it for me folks <3

For the last part in my review here, i love your writing ansy!! I really reaaalllyyy hope you don't stop doing whatever you loveeeee <3 keep being you, okay? Eh, wait, that's wrong. I mean, like keep trying to be the better you everyday! Or at least, survive the world, i guess????

- with much love, mochi <3

𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒐𝒗𝒐 (Yandere!Dainsleif/Reader)

a/n: I love Dainsleif with every fiber of my being, do you guys know that? Anyways, just like all Dain-fics, this one has illustrations (I hope they give Fairytale book vibes). I’d like to thank @meimeimeirin cuz this was an idea we were laughing abt at 4am and somehow I made something out of it HAHA.

Unreliable Synopsis: “Fairytale worlds follow fairytale laws. There’s always a protagonist burdened with impossible tasks who will experience the rule of three, witness transformations, find talking animals, and learn the power of kept promises. So, before you embark on your journey, "princess" (Y/n), have you heard of the Ugly Duckling’s tale?”

CW: light yandere themes, fairytale!au just for the hell of it. HURT/NO COMFORT. Late/Advanced happy birthday, Dainsleif.

"The destined knight is late," the great dragon clicked his tongue. One would expect that an inferior creature such as an ugly duckling would quake and shrink while perched on the Dragon King's hand. But their expression was nothing short of serene. There is a veneer of calm that the great Dragon Ongri did not overlook.

The "duckling" had the eyes of an old gentleman with worldly disinterests.

He was longing for death.

𝕺nce upon a time, there was an ugly duckling who was abandoned by both their siblings and mother. Oftentimes, he was pecked by his peers, sneered into thinking his big head and scarred face. were both a reason for his survival and misery all the same. The ugly duckling thought himself unloveable no matter where he went. The small waters he was born in had no room for miscreation, and when he traveled to an elderly's house elsewhere, the chickens thought him useless and undesirable. Normally, the story would've been a happier bedtime story if he had gone to meet the Royal birds and begged for them to end his life. Maybe then, he would've realized that he had not been a duck but a swan all along. But alas, our poor ugly "duckling" found his feet at the hands of the great Dragon King- Ongri's mercy.

"Will you kill me?" The ugly duckling asked calmly. "You need to release your anger, and I can be but one of many casualties."

"I am not a creature of impulse."

The divine dragon scowled. "After Bars' and Fein' deaths, the concept that this realm dubs as Time and Moments is now under my jurisdiction. I've no use for wasted breaths."

As it happens, the dragon was in a troubling situation. There is an immediate need for a substitute. Sensing the urgency of fate's call, Ongri unleashed an ancient incantation. Feathers singed into flesh, wings clipped into arms, and in a burst of radiant light, the "ugly duckling" was reborn as a human knight. His body had scar-like spots from the Divine Dragon infusing him with magic, albeit the metamorphosis was far from flawless. Even as a human, he was imperfect. Mysterious dark blue "burn lines" traced his neck and arms. With the new human's eyes still closed, the dragon spoke to him, the last for a long time: "Forget your past and this whole affair." He commanded. "Go, find and protect your princess."

It mattered not if this was the last breath Ongri would tell him, besides…

When a god applies a curse, it takes effect at a higher level of reality than the person themselves.

“(Y/n)…”

“It’s me, Dainsleif… Can you… still remember my voice?”

“…”

“I… understand that once a person reaches this stage of the curse, their senses get muted. The remnants of those who once dwelled here must have been the catalyst of your ailments worsening..”

“… I’m sorry. I am incredibly sorry that I found you at such a later time. It did not occur to me that you would be here in the Chasm.”

“In our next fairy tale, I’ll—”

“No… I cannot subject you to any more empty promises… But know this:”

“I will keep you safe from now on.”

“So, do not leave my side ever again.”

And the new knight opened his eyes.

Memories of the dragon vanished from his mind. He was now a being of larger flesh and bones without recollections of his past. Should another human take his shoes, they would know that it was a fresh awakening. His first breath tasted like rich champagnes. Golden. Even the sun shone in such resplendent light that made the world seemingly revolve around him.

His legs wobbled. Sliding onto the grassy area, he caught a sight of his hair. Blonde. Like hay— they were golden threads silkily strewn about. He soon noticed that the rest of his complexion was a light pinkish-hued color, as did the hands that prevented his head from taking a serious fall.

The reborn “ugly duckling” may have forgotten why, but he felt alienated from his own body. And he has the Divine Dragon to thank for his new vessel and plain armor.

“Help! Someone, HELP!!!”

His ears perked up. It was a scream with a fervor of a “damsel in distress”. Vent clamor as she may with her whole throat, nothing would come out of it.

But fate will not allow this untimely demise. Quick on his new feet, the new knight dashed towards the sound. No cavalry— just a single determined mind. After running for some time, the unnamed knight did not come across any souls.

That is, until he found the young maiden he was “fated” to save. She was on the ground, clinging into her wrist as though she burned her hand. In the ground laid an iron sword, begging to be drawn.

At the sight of the wild animal bearing down on her with frightening speed, the “knight” took her weapon and charged towards the scene, raising it in front of the menacing beast. He gazed at the bear that towered over him, displaying its slobbery maw and long, pointed claws. The untamed creature snarled and dropped to strike.

Perhaps the Divine Dragon saw his noble pursuits, perhaps he was naturally gifted in combat, but the bear was unable to rake the man’s body. Miraculous it was that not a single nasty laceration was left on his person. He lacked the strength to take it down in one fell swoop, but the speed he had made up for it. Like swans that swerved through the wind and flow of water, he dodged all its attacks. With a few strikes from his blade, the bear falls...

He breathed out, shaking in his boots though he tried not to show it. Straightening his body, he met the maiden’s gaze. His blue eyes met hers in a piercing gaze, nearly taunting her as his new opponent. The young lady exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

“T-Thank… you…”

Subconsciously, he circled the shoulder that recklessly swung the sword around. The new “knight” tilted his head. For what? He wished to ask, but words did not come out.

“For saving me, of course.”

The maiden gracefully stood. Her garments had lost some of their value due to the soil and dirt, but she herself was not affected in the same way. She exuded a fierceness that suggested anyone who ventured to hurt her would be receiving more than they bargained for. Instead of tucking her hair to the back, she pulled them forward, hiding her ears.

“Do allow me to introduce myself, kind knight.” She cleared her throat softly. “You may call me Princess (F/n), daughter of King Regan and current crown princess— heir to the throne upon the late Prince Pierre’s demise. May I know your name?”

…

… Silence…

The princess tilted her head.

"... Does my savior have a name?"

"... Name?"

The young man paused.

He couldn't remember his name. In actuality, he had absolutely no memory of anything. His mind was a bottomless pit with little to no air. With wide eyes, his hand moved slowly to around his neck. The act of conjuring up his supposed name left him terrified for reasons unbeknownst to him.

Does he… not have a name?

“... You must be joking.” The princess deadpanned. “How can one not have a name? Were you not baptized under the Divine Dragon’s light?”

She sounded incredibly upset by this fact. Whatever she ranted on about, it must be a human tradition.

“Do you not know how important names are—” The princess sighed, “Never mind. I shall assume you are one of those orphaned folks. Besides, if what you say is true, bestowing you a new name is a power much more potent.”

“I… want a name.” The man spoke up rather shyly, voice almost inaudbile.

"I know, I know… Huh, I usually take names rather than gifting them," the princess chuckled. She seemed wholly aware of his dilemma. "Hmm… Let me see…"

She examined his features closely. He was dressed in the traditional knightly fashion, albeit slightly altered. The holy kingdom's knights, of course, never donned masks—especially not half of one. He was strange, but there was an innocent genuineness about him. The blonde man doesn't have a polished appearance. He looked like a lost duckling.

It was rude to stare at the peculiar blue wounds on his face far too long so the princess’ eyes trailed above his hair.

"Leaf…" She pointed upward. "Leaf."

The knight blinked.

What a peculiar sounding name.

"Understood." He nodded and bowed politely. "I shall now be referred to as Leaf."

"No, I meant—" The princess cut herself off and chuckled. "Oh, well. I meant the leaf on one's head. But certainly the name Leaf does suit you fine."

“Do place your iron sword away, Leaf.” She added, cringing. “It is unbecoming of a knight to point a sword to their princess.”

“May… May I ask as to why you were attacked by a bear?”

“Quite bold of you to inquire a royal about a recent assassination attempt,” she humored him with a smile. He safely assumed she would not enact punishment for his assertiveness. “If you must satiate your curiosity, it is exactly that. An assassination attempt. They believed since my brother had fallen so easily, I myself must be an easy game since I adore wandering around the forest.”

“And they seem to be right,” Leaf muttered, wittily referring to the incident prior that arranged this fated meeting.

“Oh?” She scoffed, her polite smile remaining intact. “You’ve quite the tongue. Are you from the valleys?”

“I do not know.”

She squinted.

“Hmm, I see.” The princess exhaled and shook her head disapprovingly. “Then I am to presume that I should also use my wits to cleverly weave a background for you much like your name, Leaf?”

“You wish for me to serve you, that I can tell, and for that to happen I would need your equal assistance,” Leaf spoke solemnly. “I do not recall anything of my past, but you can always make one for me.”

Leaf knelt in front of her. Silence ensued.

“You are deadly calm for a man who wished his history be erased…” The princess muttered.

Leaf was a strange man indeed. He was perceptive, yet he spoke like fate’s pawn. That is to say, the princess noticed he only ever says the truth. His countenance conveyed little desire to adopt rebellious ideologies. To be honest, there was nothing in those contrivedly starry eyes. It was bare. A false sky.

It almost made the princess worry for his lack of self-preservation had she not been the same. Lies were always at her hands’ disposal, and she greatly hoped it was not what her heart would contain in her last pages. She didn’t wish for a life of deceit. The princess's survival solely comes from her ability to “doublespeak”.

“I see your promise. You are made of self-mettle. Although your blunt tongue may mar your fortunes sooner before you could gaze upon His Majesty, I wish to prescribe you with new duties.”

She took a deep breath.

“This directive shall not be withdrawn in the name of the Divine Dragon. Leaf, a young knight from the Valley of Gaciea who will shortly be appointed retainer to the Royal Highness, Princess (F/n), kneels before me. Until the end of time, he shall be my sword, and I will be his master. Will you keep your word and uphold the oath— the promise?”

“I will.”

Not a moment did he hesitate. Not for a second did he think there was more to life than this. It was nearly bitter. His life sounded so simple to her tongue.

But it was a contract nonetheless.

A promise that must be fulfilled.

“I find myself stirred in restless days without you my by side. You haunted me so diligently this past 500 or so years.”

“Humor me, won’t you… my b-beloved?”

“Why have you hid away from me? Why did I have to find you in this state? Furred and mute. Didn’t you take a breath to think about how much your pain would mean a greater weight for me? Have you not a second thought about how much it pains me to see you like this— bearing the fangs of the abyss and the claws of the cursed…?”

“The only sigh of relief I can release is that at least in this new sky, Ongri— no, he calls himself Zhongli these days— would get between us no more.”

“This new fairy tale… For how long do you expect me to keep this promise, (Y/n)? How many more stories must we get through for us to reach a happy ending?”

“Please… I’m begging you… Say something!!!”

“…”

“… Speak… Please… Anything…”

“Tell me about our past rendezvous. Seduce me with your musings. Anything… can't you try, just for this special day?”

“Please… don’t turn your mask away from me…”

“Do you find time to flow as quick as the waters by the stream? I am inclined to believe this sentiment. I find it astonishing that we’ve spent eleven or so moonshines joined at a hip. Time ages us but we are none the wiser.”

Leaf grunted, heaving Princess (F/n)’s inventory as she spoke. He didn’t seem distressed by the weight and his princess appeared not at all troubled as well. At least, that what it seemed on the surface. Royals must make their superiority known. Leaf knew (F/n) wanted to also carry some of the bags, but he refused.

There were several notions Leaf refused that noon. When (F/n) entertained the thought of going out as herself and by herself, he disapproved with haste. Leaf had to know where she’s going, who she was going with, what she’s going to wear— just about everything. His voice alone overwhelmed the princess enough that you’d mistake him for the king. The knight practically ordered what she would wear and what route she’d have to take if she wished to see the ongoing festival.

Being herself was a safety hazard and being alone by herself was a death wish.

To his eyes, at least. He had always been a twinge too overprotective.

It was a hectic morning with a picture-perfect, almost cliche scene of bustling streets and frolicking kids on a medieval setting. While children would swerve around adults' legs to avoid getting tagged, adults walked slowly to hear each gossip. One kid had nearly hit the princess herself, but Leaf would not allow it.

Leaf pulled (F/n) away by putting an arm over her waist. The smell of her sweet perfume surprised him. Her smell reminded him of the forest. For the knight who professed to guard her innocence, her warm body lightly pressed against his was a fleeting but almost immoral moment. He set her down slowly, gasping quietly. The princess chose not to draw attention to the troubled expression on her most reliable retainer.

It was better not to acknowledge his growing romantic interests.

To her, he is only a sword.

Even if he is a friend, at the end of the day, he’s only a weapon to be used.

The princess quickly pulled the cape down further to hide her face— mostly her ears. For reasons unknown to him, she seemed to find that part of herself worthy of great insecurity.

He cleared his throat, face dusted in a pink hue.

“You say that time affects you, but you haven’t aged a day.”

The princess laughed.

“Finally, a compliment from a man as stoic as you? Oh, what a day to rejoice!”

Leaf shook his head with a small smile.

“I had given you one on several occasions.”

“That may be true, but random bouts of flattery from you are scarce.” The princess hummed. “I vaguely recall how getting anything out of you was like trying to get a frozen little duckling to quack. Who am I? Your mother duck?”

The smirk on his face was quick, but (F/n) definitely saw it.

Several staff once questioned Leaf’s ability to speak. Many, including (F/n)’s father, were convinced he was mute. Everyone in the castle knew of the princess’s peculiar tastes and thought Leaf’s recruitment was a mere byproduct. His masked appearance and strange scars added more fuel to those rumors. When Leaf defended (F/n) from another assassination attempt in front of the king and inquired about her condition, King Regan nearly toppled from where he stood.

After being bombarded with questions, Leaf merely said he refrained from speaking since he saw no use if he wasn't talking to the princess herself. (F/n) still finds it absurd that she has to give orders for him to talk to other people.

For Leaf, it was simple: he just didn’t see the point of forming other interpersonal relationships.

(F/n) was the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Only her.

Only she is worthy to serve and protect.

“You truly are like a little duckling following his mother’s tail,” Princess (F/n) sighed. “But you have vastly improved in our time together. That, I can commend.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Leaf laughed softly, mocking her tone in his signature subtle way. “Oh, what a day to rejoice.”

She playfully gave him an elbow nudge. “Do not copy me, Leaf.”

“My apologies.”

Princess (F/n) was meandering around because the harvest festival was drawing closer. With her own eyes, the princess intended to see how her people were faring. Rarely did she change into a more "common" outfit and styled her hair with simplicity. Though, if you were to ask Leaf, seeing her in her most simple clothes made her far more youthful than the garbs and crown that wrinkles her smile to a frown.

“Madame, would you be interested in buying your lover here a brooch?”

Both of them stilled as a merchant called out. The undercover royal pointed to herself.

“Yes, yes, of course I’m talking to you, gorgeous!” The merchant grinned. He had silver hair that slightly covered one of his blue eyes. “Do you want matching rings instead? We’re selling for fifty percent off!”

Leaf’s gaze was stern. Despite his reservations, he knew the merchant as Alfstan, another young knight who hailed from a family of vendors. Two moonshines ago, Leaf was (forcefully) placed on training duty and had the fortune of mentoring this aspiring knight.

Mind you— nothing was particularly dubious of his wares. Leaf just simply despised having another man brazenly take your attention away. He did not find their previous exchanges pleasant. Not when Alfstan often joked about replacing his position one day.

What hubris.

While he busied himself glaring at the poor man, the princess awkwardly laughed and dismissively waved a hand. “Oh, no, he and I— we are not—”

“Haha, I know, I was just pulling your leg, Your Highness.” Alfstan grinned, giving Leaf a quick nod. “Morning, Sir Leaf! Were you showing the princess around?”

“Shhh! Be quiet!” (F/n)'s eyes widened.

He protectively wrapped an arm around (F/n) again, this time far more confidently.

“Yes.” Leaf spoke, voice as solid as his resolve.

“Mind if I tag along?”

His stare sharpened. “I would very much mind, now return to your stall.”

The princess shook her head, poorly judging her retainer’s possessive words as acts of protection. Instead, she dwelled on their attire. “Drats, was our disguise that fragile?”

Alfstan assessed her from top to bottom, which made Leaf even more tense. “Eh, you’re really gorgeous that no cloak can hide your beauty, Your Highness.”

“I have to agree,” Leaf said stiffly, clearing his throat. “Perhaps I should hide her in a hay sack. WIthout your prying eyes.”

(F/n) raised an eyebrow. “And what? And be suspected of kidnapping me instead?”

Leaf shrugged. “Does that sound like an offense I would commit?”

Alfstan rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. Besides, the only way you wouldn’t get caught is if you hid her in something as small as a teapot.”

And he would be right. But it will take eons to prove those suspicions as truth.

“Going back to your wares, Sir Alfstan,” (F/n) digressed. “These iron-framed tassels, are they made by your hand?”

Alfstan's respect for the princess grew.

“Yes, how did you come up with that conclusion? Most passersby believed I had ‘em commissioned from the East.”

(F/n) smiled crookedly. Leaf caught a glimpse of discomfort, but it was gone in a bat of an eye.

“I… I admire your skill with molding iron.” To the untrained ear, (F/n) sounded flustered and embarrassed. To Leaf, he was certain that she was unsure of herself. “It is commendable, how you smith your very own weapons, that is. I know many of our soldiers come to you when their blades are chipped.”

“You’ve heard of my skills?!” Alfstan beamed proudly. “Really?!”

The princess nodded. “Y-Yes…”

It was odd. Despite her high praise, her wariness remained. She looked at the blonde man. “He had also made your new Ulfberht sword too, right? It certainly pierces much better than his old one.”

Leaf didn’t bother with a reply, Alfstan made it for him.

“Yes, Your Highness. I thought it would make for a thoughtful birthday present!”

“Speaking of presents…” The princess gazed down, analyzing the items he sold once more. “What do you recommend as a gift for someone important?”

If Alfstan was elated by her earlier compliments, he could practically jump over the moon at her newest proposition.

“Oh? OH?!?”

Leaf gave (F/n) a strict yet gentle glare.

“Your Highness…”

“I still won’t let it slide!” (F/n) huffed. “I couldn’t possibly be satisfied with just new sets of armor. Alfstan, by my order, suggest a pleasant gift for the stubborn knight beside me.”

“On it!”

Without delay, the two bent down to select the ideal accessory for the man who vehemently refused. Alfstan was the only one touching the gems and (F/n) refrained from doing so. Tiny flecks of gold and iron infused the tassels, but she feared she would handle the stones carelessly.

Leaf palmed his face with one hand as the two chattered. Still, despite Leaf’s disapproving looks, he finds (F/n)’s enthusiasm to make him happy a wonderful notion in itself. To think that (F/n) would continue to insist on a present for a birthday that had since passed… She was more stubborn than he was.

“So troublesome…” He muttered with a soft smile. “I see no point in this, Princess (F/n). Serving you is a miracle enough itself—”

“Halt! Speak no more, Sir Leaf!” (F/n) exclaimed. “There! That one, Alfstan— that gem resembles his eyes, does it not?!”

“You have great tastes, Princess (F/n)!” Alfstan nodded eagerly like a motivated student. “That does look like his shade of blue— and so quick to find it among the pile, too! Are you sure you’re not some sort of custodian of natural treasures?”

Princess (F/n)’s awkward and stifled laughter can be heard again.

“What? Haha, what nonsense.” She shook her head. “Everyone calls me Princess (F/n), any other name would surely sound terrifying and mismatched.”

A nonanswer, but that made the conversation more humorous.

“Here you go!”

Alfstan reached his hand out with the tassel. (F/n) stared at him, silent and unsure. He blinked and snapped his fingers.

“Oh, right, you need a box— my deepest apologies, I was too caught up in the moment!”

The princess sighed in relief.

Leaf crossed his arms. “You’re doing well for your first time setting up a stall, Alfstan.”

“This isn’t my first and you know it, Sir!”

(F/n) laughed.

The merchant wrapped the gift she brought with care. The hush looms large around them as the merchant boastfully goes about his business, his tone comforting to her ears. The Princess walks over to the gift box once the merchant has finished. She can't help but smile because she can feel the tassel inside.

“Not exactly a surprise since Sir Leaf is here, but the packaging adds some charm, right?” Alfstan asked.

The princess couldn’t hold back a smile as she looked at the knight behind her.

“I think most of the charm comes from the person who’ll receive it,” (F/n) chuckled.

“Don’t you think so, Leaf?”

She wouldn’t know. And she’d never know a lot of things.

She never got the chance to ask her most precious knight if he liked that gift.

And she never will. No matter how many days, months, years, centuries— eons Leaf would wait, he would never hear the princess ask that same question again after this.

It would not matter if he was a judge, a prince, a knight, or a mere animal— it did not matter how many sweet new styles he would take. In the end, his arms will always be empty. Everything was pre-ordained. Dying in his arms, whether it’s slow and painful or mercilessly quick— will remain as the last line. He will always hold on to your corpse, warmth draining.

This was your fate, (F/n)— no, (Y/n) (L/n).

This was just the first of many branches of the Irminsul. The first of its many reiterations, possibilities, or better yet, alternate tales or "universal resets".

Princess "(F/n)" coughed, wetting the side of their lips.

"I haven't been able to p-personally attach that tassel on your s-sword, b-but… but I can spare you enough seconds to fly away…"

"Don't make haste!" Leaf gritted his teeth as he applied some pressure down her stomach. "This is not your decision to make!"

She didn't reply to his desperation, but she silently disagreed.

In her palm was the tassel, out of its box. The blue threads darkened with the taints of her blood. The metallic scent was nauseating. It weaved in a disorganized fashion around her fingers.

What a beautiful and tragic loom of fate, to love someone you were bound to hold with ruin.

It would’ve hurt less if it weren’t in his colors too.

"This marks the worst day of my life," the “princess” smiled, tucking the stray hair behind Leaf's face. "And even if given the opportunity, I wouldn't dare c-change not even a minute detail about it."

As if she— as if you— have the power to change destiny.

You're not a descender.

You're just a pawn.

That's when Leaf realized how fragile life ultimately was. With the curse undoing itself, he recalled and reflected on his animal days. He understood the Divine Dragon's intense frustration over a lowly duckling's will to perish. The curse of becoming human meant knowing the greed men had, but also the beauty of their kindness.

His small bird heart was not meant for this much sorrow. His life was meant to be simple. To learn that he was not a duck, but a swan.

How was he supposed to cope that the woman he had sworn to protect was not human, but a fae?

Everyone in the kingdom knew that the king would sooner disclaim his paternity than allow the crown princess (F/n) to truly lead— but they never had any real reason to support the king for this. The princess’s words were always more kind and ponderous than that of her supposed father’s. They thought him mad. They thought him deplorable. They thought him old and senile.

But he would not be king if he were not sharp.

Why, oh why, would the princess make great efforts to constantly hide her ears? Why would the princess utter roundabout ways in speaking her “own” name? Most of all, why would the princess fear the touch of iron?

There was a simple answer: she was not the princess, but a liar.

And yet, Leaf was the sole person who did not care, for he thought himself as the worst sinner or “quack” in comparison.

The kingdom won't learn the full truth for some time after this, but the fae made a bargain with the real princess. The real princess would elope with a farm boy and, in return, the fae would take her name. The trade was not malevolent. The two women were secret friends since childhood and neither wished the other harm.

But the townsfolks had little patience. They would sooner throw pebbles and stones than kneel for a false princess.

The moral of the story, like most Brothers Grimm’s fairy tales, was simple: virtue will be rewarded, Iniquity will be punished. The storytellers do not care beyond that, no matter how dark it sounds to the children who will hear it. The fae lied, therefore the kingdom shall rightfully punish her.

They better thank the dragon they oh-so admire that the court fae did not think themselves evil. They better sleep soundly, knowing that they have slaughtered a well-intentioned guardian.

For he will not and never will.

Not even with a change of title, name, and universe. Whether the land he walked on was called Gaciea, Fodlan, Belobog, the Continental, or Teyvat— what the world steals from him, he promised to take back.

There the two were, back to where it started. The same forest and patch of land where the bear had attacked her. Fate had a funny way of telling tales. Leaf can only scoff at how unimaginative it could be, sometimes.

Why couldn’t fate think of more comfortable deathbeds for the one he loved?

"You cannot allow this! I cannot allow this!" The knight gritted his teeth. "You will not die— you cannot die. You and I have a promise… You cannot break that one promise!!!”

“(F/n)” grinned.

The look in her eyes disturbed him.

She knew. It is finished. She knew that it was the last page of the book. Just living in these immortalized pages for the fae was well worth the want she had wanted.

“Consummatum est.”

Consummatum est….

Leaf gasped shakily.

“Did my life… even have meaning to you as well?”

Her expression was enough to tell him the words “who knows?” She surely did not. Her mind was buzzing and her thoughts were fizzling out. No one knows anymore. Maybe the Divine Dragon would but he would not accept any offering or prayers for these two heretics.

This is fine… He’ll forget his tears soon, surely…

He’s only a sword at her side… She never asked him to be anything more…

He should be okay, once she’s gone…

She grinned, lifelessly tracing her thumb across his cheeks. The curse is undone. The loom of fate was slowly disintegrating. Soon enough, he shall return to his original form. That of an animal. That of an ugly duckling. That of a swan who will forget his human memories.

It is finished.

On the book’s final page, there is only ever a fae’s corpse and an elegant bird watching over them. With its wings clipped back, curiously watching the light leave their eyes, he will return to the nearby riverbanks and forget what had happened. As retribution for stealing another’s identity, there will be no one left to remember who she truly was.

And that was all there was to it.

With the fae banished, the Kingdom of Gaciea lived happily ever after. THE END.

Dainsleif closed the book and lovingly looked at the “person” beside him in bed. He stroked the “person”’s light brown hair— its color reminiscent of the bear he had slain in his first life. It’s a shame he had to reunite with you in this condition. But it’s not like he would stop loving you. He doesn’t care if you’re a fae, a sinner—

Or a hilichurl.

He scooted closer beside you.

"So, does the story ring any bells, my beloved?"

Zhongli, upon recalling what happened and the curse he had inflicted on both of you to fulfill some children’s fairy tale, sought the “ugly duckling” and the “false princess”. Retired as he is, he cannot undo the fate you must play nor terminate his contract with Celestia. For consolation, he merely offered the Khaenri’ahn a teapot. Unlike the Chasm, the teapot was forever peaceful and serene. The brightness of lumenstone ores was not as comforting as the adeptal light that peeks through the drapes. This is your current place of residence. Whether you liked it or not.

"To think Nicole would entail the story of our past life." He laughed softly. "And these names... Hah... Are those the best she could conjure up to bypass possible erasure…? I suppose I should still thank her for her best efforts. I can see how challenging it would be to document our story, given how we lived through so many resets."

There’s a slice of cake paired with wooden utensils on the nightstand. If your mind had not deteriorated, you might’ve assumed they were gifts from the aforementioned Nicole and the Geo Archon. Unfortunately, forming a coherent thought required a mental fortitude akin to iron. You currently do not have such willpower.

“Alfstan— no… Halfdan was right. There will come a time that he’d protect you from harm and not I…” Dainsleif mumbled defeatedly, his eyes burning with tears he couldn’t let out. Far too tired to dwell on it. “He must’ve forgotten his old jests in his previous life because as far as he’s concerned, he’s simply doing his duty as a Black Serpent Knight…”

He pecked your forehead, closing his eyes.

"Did you remember, my beloved? Vacation may not have any business being in my vocabulary but it is my birthday today…" Dainsleif leaned his forehead against the cold stone that covered your face. "I know you— do not feel guilty over your lack of gifts. It is not as if I bothered to count my age since the cataclysm. I didn't want to celebrate this occasion for the past five centuries. Not when you weren't at my side..."

The blonde man turned his gaze to the floor.

How many times will he have to “reincarnate” just to see a happy ending for the both of you?

"Happy birthday… to me…" He sang weakly. "Happy birthday to me…"

The man— the former sentimental judge— the former tyrant prince— the former "ugly duckling"— and now the current bough keeper, observer of fate in this new fairy tale, trembled…

“Happy birthday, happy birthday…”

… And sobbed.

You, in your ungreedy husk of a body, tilted your head in innocence. Pain coursed through every nerve now that the Abyss Order’s cleansing equipment broke. The man before you was no different from the shadows you fought and hid from that would terrorize the dark and cold places in the Chasm you’ve instinctively called home. But somewhere deep down, you carried a complex weight that hilichurls wouldn’t normally have.

That weight was a human emotion dubbed as "pity."

You pitied the shadow that loomed and embraced you.

And your lone reluctant arm that wrapped around him was enough to make him fully break down.

His throat constricted as he cried into your inhuman shoulders. Your scent was like that of a wet duckling, and he preferred that over the blood that disgraced your form several "fairy tales" ago. It was the most important ring between the two that Pari Zurvan found him clutching whilst unconscious in the wilderness.

At the very least, you were safe.

And you being alive today was a good enough present for him.

You tilted your head down, feeling his warmth one last time while Dainsleif took a deep breath, singing with more air than a proper tune.

Though it was barely discernible, he could just about make out the words you muttered a phrase from the old language of Khaenri'ah. Or at least, he deluded himself that that was the case. In his catatonic mind, you spoke the words:

Happy birthday, my beloved.

"H-Happy birthday to me…"

Taglist: @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen @dxprived4-starboys

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avi17 · 2 years ago

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This started off as a reblog of @hellfiredm 's post about the Duffer bros shitty interview [here], but I thought it got too long for a reblog so-

My only disagreement with OP is that I don't think Eddie didn't want to graduate- it sounds like he very much wants to, both talking at school and mentioning in the RV that he swore to make something of himself and not to turn out like his dad (who we can guess from context is a criminal, my guess is that he's in prison). Also the fact that he's repeating senior year for a THIRD time- he's already got some income from dealing and I'm sure whatever Wayne does at the plant doesn't require a high school diploma. He could just drop out, especially after the second fail, but he didn't, he wants it.

Might be me projecting but he has MAJOR adhd energy to me- partly just in his mannerisms and how he talks, but also because of the exact things you've mentioned. He is smart, but only in the things he can actually focus on. He can devour thousands of pages of books, can learn complicated music by ear in a short time, can plot out dnd campaigns and make maps and do at least enough on the fly math to run a game (if you've never played, dnd involves a lot more math than you might expect 😂). But then he's bad enough in classes about similar things- math, literature, history- to be unable to even scrape a passing grade? That's exactly adhd, where you are smart but you hyperfixate on the things that interest you and absolutely can't focus on the stuff that doesn't. And he lives in a trailer park 40 years ago, nobody is taking him in to get this diagnosed or getting him on meds. They just assume he's stupid or doesn't care. But nobody is gonna voluntarily do that shit THREE times if they don't care. He probably doesn't even understand why he can't just fucking get it together in class. Underneath all the bitching about conformity and shit, he probably feels like he's stupid and that breaks my heart. I feel like he absolutely could have graduated with the help of someone who understood what was going on and why he was struggling, and I really love the fics where that actually happens.

But yeah, those are remarkably shitty things to say about a character who more viewers have seen themselves in than maybe any other on the show. I feel like the Duffers were Mike once- they think they've been outsiders because they had nerdy interests, and maybe they were to a degree, but that's made them think they understand what it's like to be a true outsider and they don't. They've been Mike, but they've never been Will or Lucas or Robin or Eddie. That's why they've got these views that are more conservative and shitty than you'd expect, that's why this show does great with making lots of nostalgic nerdy references but then handles things like race and queerness and neurodivergency so badly.

And yeah, after Barb's "chemical toxin" and the "mall fire" and all the other craziness, you can't convince me that they couldn't have come up with a cover for this. Especially with Hopper back, and especially since the town is fucking split in half by a giant interdimensional hell crater that Eddie obviously didn't cause (even if some people thought he did with some kind of Satanic magic, that's not something you can even remotely prove in court.) He might still be guilty in the eyes of too many residents of Hawkins to stay there safely, but if he was cleared legally he could leave and have a life somewhere else. In no way was him having absolutely no future inevitable.

I'm just. They conceived him as a "tragic figure" but it's not a tragedy that he gave his life if he had no future. It's not a tragedy that he gave his life if his life didn't have worth. Fucking hell.

Let's be real, they conceived him as a sacrificial lamb for a couple minutes of tearjerking like they do every season and he totally got away from them and now they're in a dilemma because they absolutely had no plans to bring him back but they didn't realize he would be THIS loved. I think it would fuck up their preconceived story for s5 too much to have him just come back, but I am hoping for at least some cameos in one form or another. Though honestly, if they think this poorly of him, maybe they should just let him rest. :/

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things meta #Joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #st4 #fuck the duffers #first time using that tag oof xD #eddie munson meta #eddie munson has adhd #will die on that hill tbh #eddie munson deserved better

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miekasa · 3 years ago

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mie!! since u write such beautiful gorgeous astounding breathtaking life-changing tearjerking fics, do YOU have any good fic recs that you personally love 🤔

I do! I have a whole blog of wonderful fics I’ve read (tho I desperately need to update it/reblog the ones in my drafts and tag them) @ackermeun for more if you want because there are many lovely, talented writers; but I’ll list a few of my faves for Levi and Eren below 😌😌

Levi

kiss me more by @vennilavee

Now, I could recommend you anything and everything by Saran and I have no doubt that you would love all of it. There’s not a single thing in her masterlist that I dislike, she even made me okay with the idea of pegging Levi bye. The entire tbah universe (specifically parental moments one) has a special place in my heart, but recently the perpendicular world has been on my mind, and might be coming for number one. Either way, you’re gonna love it. She writes Levi in his slightly bitchy, kinda needy, implicitly affectionate, true to nature form, and I am so grateful for it. Also, Saran is a comedian.

silver soul by @oi-levi (now posting from @bibblelevi)

I suck at keeping up with series, and, so, naturally, I’m terribly behind on this one, but I’m gonna go ahead and rec the whole thing to you anyway, because I have no doubt that the other chapters are just as great the two I’ve read so far. The way she writes Levi... when I tell you I could wrap myself up in a blanket and binge this whole series, and her entire masterlist, and be very content I mean it; her writing feels warm, that’s the only way I can explain it.

the art of tea composition by @karikarasuno

I don’t remember how or when I found this fic exactly, probably just scrolling through the tag, but I love it. Domestic fluff with Levi, allowing me to pretend I’m a morning person, and just the right kind of smut to go with it. Simple and very, very effective. I’ve reread it a few times by now, no shame.

where you’re meant to be by @deludedimagines

After you read this, I also suggest just going after the whole masterlist. I cannot express how grateful I am to have found this blog PLEASE. Her characterization of Levi is perfect, and something about her prose feels very clean and simple, but elevated and layered at the same time. This one-shot in particular is one of my favorite canonverse pieces, I’m a sucker for a classic injured lover trope.

the ones who matter most by @deludedimagines

Yeah... this shouldn’t be a surprise. Fantastic writing, fluff in canonverse has a special place in my heart because I think it can be really hard to pull off well; it’s difficult to balance a sense of softness within the aot universe for the obvious reasons, and getting Levi’s caring nature right can be (unfortunately) so hard to find. Good thing people like Sorcha are here. Enjoy more fluff. Also this fic is particularly fantastic to me not just because of the injured lover trope, but because the 104th babies pay a visit and you all know how much I love a good glimpse of reluctant adoptive dad Levi hehe

bullet by @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface

If you can’t tell by now, I love canonverse fluff, tho this fic isn’t fluff in the traditional sense, but I think that makes it all the much better. Perfect depiction of real life shit that would go down in the aot world paired with Levi’s need to protect his s/o. It’s fantastic.

the knife by @therealvalkyrie

I didn’t mean to turn this into Mie’s Favorite Canon Fics Showcase, but here we are anyway. As much as I love a good injured lover trope (and this does have that hehe), I love a good kickass reader insert, too. Shoutout to Valkyrie for included both in this fic, and Levi being proud of his s/o... well you can imagine how much I liked that bye

dante’s inferno by @alrightberries

College au + roommates au with Levi... that should be enough for you to read this lmfao, no but actually it’s adorable. Not to mention friends to lovers... if you know me you know how I feel about that, I’ll gobble up every f2l fic until I’m dead and gone. Not to mention there’s a cat and Levi won’t admit he likes it, or he’s jealous of it. Simply cannot go wrong here.

waves know shores by @onwiings

Bro I don’t even like the idea of public sex and I’m not even a fan of water like that but this fic has me wrapped around it’s pinky lmfaoooo. Some of the best Levi smut I’ve read and you already know how I feel when Levi and reader have cute interactions with the 104th in fics. Really it’s checking every item on my list.

Eren

speed racer by @emeren

I’m pretty sure I found this fic during my midterms last semester, and when I tell you I’m so grateful for it lmaooo. It’s really just a good au, I think it fits Eren (honestly barking at just the concept) and the writing brings it all to life.

under the moonlight by @murmikaa

I’d have to be dumb not to recommend this to you. I love reading longer fics, and if you do, then this will 100% satisfy you. The whole story is great and immersive, not just between Eren and the reader; their relationships with the other characters are really what makes this special imo. There’s also beach sex, so. Obviously it’s good.

untitled.avi by @puredivinity (now @celestidarling)

Naur you must of thought wrong if you thought at least one of Mara’s fics wouldn’t be here. I’m obsessed, I think I’ve read it three times minimum. I read all her Eren fics, and you should too. She writes him in such a dreamy way, almost like he’s right there and too good to be true that you must be hallucinating. Immaculate.

midnight snacks by @writertitan

Dumb, college-typical antics and fluff with Eren... obviously you know I’m about that. The whole concept is so mundane, but so cute, you can’t help but fall for it because it could be so real!! I love that kinda stuff hehe

i’m your satellite by @ackerfics

Comparing hand sizes with Eren!! YEAAAAH!! No, okay, but I read the summary and was ready to dive in because... size kink go crazy, but when I tell you I was so blown away to find out that it was not only from Eren’s pov, but that he was being a complete simp and down terrible the whole time. Normalize boyfriends being completely fucking in love with their gfs that simple shit like the size of their hand makes them wanna simp even harder!!!!

eren as an ass man by @hznji

I’m dying on the hill that Eren is an ass guy and you should too because it’s the objective truth. Fluff, Eren being a complete dog as per usual, Eren’s being touchy (I will also die on the hill that he’s touchy as fuck and has no concept of personal space) and just in genral snarky but cute banter. Gotta love that.

Jean

tears over beers by @appplepii

When I tell you this is my favorite Jean fic, I mean it. Friends to lovers with hopelessly pining Jean + oblivious reader = everything I could have asked for in a fic, AND it’s from Jean’s pov too!!! INCREDIBLE!!! The pining made me yearn, and the smut was so well done, too.

this drabble by @arlerted

Whatever, whatever, WHATEVER!!! I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT!!! Cal is right, don’t do drugs but... this mf... this imagine.... has been burned into my mind since the first time I fucking read it bye. Callie also writes a bunch of filthy (affectionate <3) fics and drabbles and lewds and you should read them, preferably when you’re alone and with the lights off.

#anonymous #um you probably didnt ask for 1k words worth of reviews but here u go anyway!!!#fic recs

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icypantherwrites · 3 years ago

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Icy's Christmas Cheer Fic List

Not quite feeling cheerful about much these days for me personally, but for those that are looking I've compiled a few fanfictions that sort of fit the Christmas (winter?) theme (although fair warning, still some tear jerkers in here) of family and fluff and cheer and will hopefully get you in the Christmas spirit :)

Happy holidays and happy reading! If you read and enjoy a fic it would mean a lot if you left a comment on the fic. Thank you! ♥

The Magic of Snow

Summary: Team Voltron takes a leisure day on a snowy planet where Lance finally gets to participate in the one winter activity he’s always dreamed of: sledding. It’s an afternoon of racing and laughter and fun with his friends.

Until it isn’t.

My comments: A legit winter holiday event themed fic in the list so we're starting off with the big guns ;) Despite the foreboding last sentence of the summary there, this fic is a big pile of fluff and snow and always makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

Brightest Day of Your Darkest Hour

Summary: (Alternate Universe) Pop wasn’t… he couldn’t be… Keith refused to believe it no matter what they told him, what reality said. It wasn’t true. Pop wasn’t d—

But there was no denying that his life was changing around him and not for the better. He was being uprooted from all he had ever known and placed into the foster system hours away from home, from Pop, from… from everything.

Well, that had been the original plan. A Galaxy Garrison cadet named Lance who Keith had just met days before had a different idea… and it was one that would forever change both of their lives.

My comments: Okay, before you go wtf Icy, listen. This story is in that tearjerker warning up top and it's going to make most of y'all cry because it is tragic. But the story starts off with Keith and Pop's Christmas and then there's lovely scenes of Christmas time traditions with Lance's family when Keith joins them. I do recommend though for the full feel good Christmas fic to wrap up at the end of chapter six (there's a note there too of the same) as after that the fic moves into more angsty territory.

If the World Should Freeze

Summary: Up ahead Hunk realized Lance was no longer running beside him and came to a skidding halt himself. His heart leapt into his throat as he turned and caught sight of Lance standing stock-still, arm wound back with a snowball against the charging creature. Oh God. "Lance!" he screamed, already turning around and going back for his bravely stupid best friend. "Lance!" Hunk's stomach bottomed out. He wasn't going to make it./ Hunk and Lance are stranded in an icy wasteland but the cold is quickly becoming the least of their problems. Enter hungry, giant creature with sharp teeth and sharper antlers. Yeah. They're in trouble.

My comments: Hear me out: this fic has snow. And ice. And if you squint really hard it's almost like there's iceskating in one scene AND a snowball fight in another. And there's a cuddle pile at the end so... check?

The Chill of Loneliness

Summary: Lance couldn’t be more thrilled. A special mission that only he and the Blue Lion could undertake due to the insanely cold temperatures and a way to further their slowly growing bond? Sign him up! But when the mission goes sideways Lance finds himself all alone with no hope of backup, slowly freezing to death and he can’t find his way back to Blue. He had hoped to prove himself on this mission but… but it looks like all he’s going to do is die instead.

My comment: Just gonna piggyback off the snow + ice + dangerous animals theme from up above and say yay winter! Happy ending, of course, so indulge in this little angst fest beforehand ♥

A Broken Arm For a Broken Soul

Summary: Shiro is breaking. Pidge can see it: the exhaustion, the pain, and the growing, splintering cracks. And while Pidge doesn’t know how to fix broken people she does know how to fix broken things. And Shiro’s prosthetic arm the Galra forced upon him is a broken thing. She doesn’t know how much it will help, but… but maybe, if she can fix that then Shiro won’t be quite so broken anymore.

My comments: Am I stretching a tad? I'm stretching a tad. But this fic is technically Gift Giving and it has a warm and sweet ending (so long as you don't read the alternate ending on my Patreon ;)) so it fits like a glove! Or, er, a new prosthetic?

Ginger and Lilac Tea

Summary: Keith is used to being the outsider. He’s used to not belonging anywhere. That doesn’t make it any easier when he’s excluded — intentionally or not — and it’s hitting even harder with his newfound Galran heritage that he’s not like them and no matter what he does, no matter how much he wants to belong, that he’ll never fit in. And it’s time he finally learns to accept that.

But before that happens… Coran has something to say.

My comments: Technically the holiday featured here is Mother's Day but it still involves both gift giving and some warm family moments, as well as that awful feeling of being on the outside which I know can crop up around the holidays. Hopefully this fic brings you a little cheer and warmth like a nice cup of tea ♥

When the World Stops (But Somehow Still Keeps Turning)

Summary: Veronica’s baby brother was dead. An accident, the Garrison told her, of Lance’s own making. As her family mourns and slowly begins to move on Veronica isn’t quite so wiling. Something isn’t right. The Garrison she has always served loyally is hiding something, perhaps even their own blood-stained, murderous hands. Veronica is going to get to the bottom of it and she’ll see justice served.

Or; a re-telling of seasons one through seven through the eyes of Veronica Esposito reflecting on her youngest brother.

My comments: It's not really a Christmas fic (but there are Christmas scenes!!!) but a fic about family and loss and then grieving and healing together. And it does have a happy ending (AKA the one thing canon got right xD)

Koala Hugs

Summary: They’d been told that the guest houses were supposed to keep them safe from the deadly low temperatures of the planet. And while for Pidge that is indeed the case, she learns it’s not so for Lance as she’s awoken by a projection of pure terror from the Blue Lion, who can sense her Paladin dying. And now as Pidge hurries to Lance’s guest house and finds him so so cold and still, she can only hope she’s not too late.

My comments: Once more we're rocking out to this 'cold' and 'cuddle' theme and hey, I'm here for it. Let the cuddles and koala hugs commence ♥

Sleep Well, My Son

Summary: A tiny accident becomes literal when Lance is turned into a child with no recollection from his older self. Coran has hopes the effects will be relatively short-term, but in the meantime he has a scared child that needs both reassurance and care. And while Coran might not have had the chance to be a father… he feels like one now.

My comments: It's warm, soft and fluffy with parental!Coran. Christmas-themed or not, it'll give you warm fuzzies.

Cold Hands, Warm Hearts

Summary: Lance went still beneath Shiro's ministrations. No more shivers, no trembles. Just still. Deathly still. "No," Shiro gasped. "No no no." Shaking hands desperately sought a pulse on the frigid skin. His breath hitched. He couldn't find one. / Lance falls into a frozen lake saving a child and now he's the one in need of saving. Shiro is determined to do just that.

My comments: Did someone ask for more ice skating turned swimming in freezing water? Did I hear a yes? :D :D :D There's even some snowmen building in here before, you know, potential hypothermia and drowning in an icy lake kick off, but it ends with frozen burritos and cuddles so I'll call it a win.

A Name By Any Other

Summary: To avoid another one of Shiro's exhausting training scenarios, the Paladins settle on a bonding activity and opt to talk about their names. What they thought would be a light-hearted topic turns deeply personal when they realize that no name is as simple as it appears. For behind every name there is a story just waiting to be told.

My comments: A soft fanfiction all about friends coming together as family? I'll take a dozen, please.

Bedridden

Summary: Allura is miserably sick with the flu. Fortunately, her team is there to make it a little more bearable.

My comments: A tiny mini fluffy sick!fic because let's face it, those darn colds love to pop up around the holidays. Just some light, feel good fluff for everyone's favorite space princess.

With Love,

Summary: (7 + 1 Ficlets) The seven times Lance handmakes heartwarming gifts for the members of Voltron and the time they make him one.

My comments: An entire ficlet series of heartwarming gift giving? Screams Christmas spirit to me!

Glow-In-The-Dark-Stars

Summary: Think of a happy childhood memory, Coran told the Paladins, to use in the mindmeld sequencing and team bonding exercise. They do. But none had expected their memories to be so vivid, so lifelike. And Keith had never, ever, expected to hear Pop’s voice again.

My notes: A full-on family fic that makes my heart warm and my eyes very, very wet. This one is particularly special to me as I posted it in honor of my Bubba (grandma) who passed unexpectedly this past January. Hold your loved ones close and give them an extra hug when you see them.

The Orange Grind (SERIES)

Summary: Coffee Shop AU series where Coran is the owner of The Orange Grind and Keith is the runaway foster kid he finds picking through food in his dumpster.

My comments: Coran pops up quite a bit on this list and I am 100% okay with that. He makes me feel safe and warm, just like he does for Keith in this series. This series is near and dear to my heart and very, very personal for me. I hope you enjoy it too.

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unstablecutehoe · 4 years ago

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finally had time to read this week and omg-

first off THANK YOU SOOOO SO MUCH FOR THE DEDICATION NOTE PLS IT REALLY MEANS A LOT !!! 🥺🥺 i absolutely a d o r e your works so the least i could do is tell u how much i enjoyed it with my long ass reviews !! <3

back to the fic ,,, IM SPEECHLESS AT HOW GOOD THIS WAS FROM START TO FINISH OML😭 i already knew just from the teaser snippet that i was gonna love this fic omg ,,, and once again it did NOT disappoint at all pls this was an actual work of art😭😭

i LOVE angst and it's my fave genre so it'll prolly come off as biased when i say that this might take the spot of my fave fic of yours sjsjdksj it just pulled at my heart strings in the best way possible and i can't stop thinking bout this story omg

y/n ...... god i just wanna give my good sis a HUG !!! 😭😭 she literally going thru HELL and back in this. although she sees herself as weak , i see her as the complete opposite ,,, the way she is able to hold herself up for her family and especially her lil brother is so so so admirable and selfless ugh :( she deserves everything great in life and i really hope she realizes that ,,, cuz after everything she went thru that entire year ?????!??!???? god she's SUCH a strong person pls i love her too much😭

and for tae ... i'm not gonna lie i was so mad at him for the way he treated y/n asjsjeja BUT as you read the story it just makes you feel SO bad for him too. like losing his sister so young ... along with hyeri and daniels relationship being kept secret from him that entire time ... i completely understand his pain and hurt. though he could've handled it much differently , it's so refreshing to see him own up to his faults in the end of the story. ugh he truly deserves to heal peacefully from that trauma :(

god there was so many moments in this fic where i was a WRECK LIKE ???? the club scene with tae , and when she saw mrs bloom (cant STAND her ass😭) .... but the way my heart was POUNDING during the scene where she went thru her brothers phone and starts to question everything ???? i just LOVE the writing throughout this fic , and the anticipation from that scene specifically (AS WELL AS THE CAR SCENE W/ KEVIN OMG) had me FRANTIC as HELL😭

AND TELL ME WHY I GOT SO FUCKING EMOTIONAL WITH THAT VERY LAST SCENE OMFG ??? I CANT EVEN EXPLAIN TO YOU HOW PERFECTLY YOU ENDED THE STORY OFF WITH THAT MONOLOGUE PLS !!! 😭😭 this is one of those scenes in a fic that i will ALWAYS remember and get emotional to ... EVEN THINKING bout it is making my eyes tear tf up😭😭 was so perfect how their relationship came full circle at the end.

this fic was so heart breaking yet so beautiful and i really can't believe i'm reading this FOR FREE PLS😭 it completely amazes me how captivating your writing is. the development of the character arcs, their relationship, and the plot was so well-written and beautiful that i feel like this could have been an actual book/movie that i'd 100% buy/watch. i really look forward to whatever fic you have coming up !! i'm literally always left so impressed every single time. have a GREAT day and thank you for this fic !!! <3

poetry of the stars

❦ synopsis: yn and her family are social pariahs a year after her older brother confessed to the murder of his secret girlfriend, who was also yn's best friend. with normalcy as a thing of the past, all yn wants is to work through the summer and save up enough money to leave her town forever. but what happens when the job she gets hired for means working alongside the brother of the friend she lost?

❦ genre: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, best friend’s brother au

❦ warnings: theme of murder; guilt by association; hurt/comfort; general emotional pain; minor character death (pre-fic); lots of anger; emotional bullying; lots of sadness; taehyung is a bit 'rough' in one of the scenes; yn gets physically assaulted by someone (non-graphic);

❦ playlist: sweet night by kim taehyung; soldier by before you exit

❦ book inspo: even if i fall by abigail johnson (an absolute fav)

❦ word count: 25.4k

❦ dedication: @diorpark and @unstablecutehoe, thank you for always being so kind in your reviews, it means the world to me <3

❦ author's note: this fic was inspired by the book mentioned above, which focuses on murder, the power of love, and a search for the truth. this fic is angst-heavy, though it has a happy ending. despite the warnings, i hope you will give it a chance. side note: although this is 100% a reader/yn fic, i couldn't help but imagine actress, choi seongeun (yoo jaeyi from beyond evil) as YN. while watching beyond evil, i thought she perfectly encapsulates how i imagined YN in this fic. please enjoy this a lot! happy reading~!! :]

Every morning, there is a loud banging at the door.

It starts an hour or so after sunrise and lasts about five minutes. Most days, no one in my family pays much attention to it. My father, who lives in the guest room now, wears earplugs to bed while my mother is usually too lost in her own thoughts to notice any sort of sound. My little brother throws a pillow over his head and pretends he doesn’t hear it.

I don’t do any of these things.

Instead, I grab my brown cardigan and tiptoe downstairs, careful in skipping the third to last step. It’s creaky, and also a reminder of the person who said he would fix it eventually.

When I get to the front door, I only open it a smidge. Just enough to inspect the damage before I have to deal with it. Today’s weapon is two dozen eggs. Large, white eggs from the only grocery store in this town. The way the eggs splatter against the blue of our door would be perfect for an art exhibit in New York City. They would call it broken eggs upon a door and charge people to see it.

It’s funny because I get to see it for free.

I take a step back from the door once I realize the boys are gone. Then, I head to the kitchen for some paper towels and an extra bag. The weather is warm. Customary for the start of summer. Most people in the neighbourhood should be out for walks, but they aren’t. It may have to do with the fact that not many people live around here anymore. Almost a year ago, after the indictment, most of our neighbours sold their properties and moved away. Whether it was the reporters who drove them away or the fact that they were living on the same street as the family of a murderer, I don’t know.

“What a waste of perfectly good eggs,” I comment to myself as I gather the broken eggshells then use a paper towel to wipe up the liquid. “They should have stuck to paint balloons.” It takes me a few minutes to wipe up the best to my satisfaction. When I’m done, I tie the small bag.

Just as I’m standing up, another egg comes flying my way, pelting me square on the back. I stagger forward from the impact, grabbing the edge of the door to keep myself upright.

“Murderers!” A familiar voice yells, followed by the pelting of about a dozen more eggs. I don’t do the smart thing and race inside. What I do instead is crouch on the floor, hiding behind one of my mother’s old potted plants.

“Kill yourselves!”

“Shameless! You all deserve to be in prison!”

“You raised a murderer!”

“You call yourselves human?!”

There are about four or five voices in total. I recognize all of them as classmates. Boys I’ve known since I was five years old. We went to the same schools all our lives. Played tag and hide-and-go-seek during recess. Skinned our knees together. Made fun of our teachers together. Grew up together.

And perhaps this is what hurts the most. That while knowing me, and growing up with me, they still choose to do what they do to me. I don’t know why I’m so hurt by it. It’s been a year. I should be used to it by now. But does anyone ever get used to something like this?

After another minute or so, the pelting dies down alongside the aggressive voices. I know I should stay in hiding. It would be better that way. I should wait for them to leave so I can finish cleaning up. Our door is once again covered in a gooey mess of eggs, and I need more paper towels.

Counting to three inside my head, I squeeze my hands into fists and slowly rise to my feet. I try not to look at the boys as they stand on the road, watching me, but I can’t help it. For a brief moment, my eyes flicker to where they shake their heads at me then start walking away.

Except one.

The only one whose voice I never heard. The only one I know best from the lot. The only one who continues staring even as the other boys turn their backs to me.

As soon as our eyes meet, I lower my gaze. I used to dream about the day he would look at me for longer than a few seconds. I just never imagined it would be in this context.

I hear one of the boys shout his name and that’s when I look up again. He’s walking towards me now, up the short flight of stairs, until we are face-to-face.

I don’t know what I expected him to do, being so close to me, but perhaps, just like everything else today, I should have known what would come next in the sequence of events.

The boy I have known all my life reaches inside the pocket of his sweater and pulls out an identical white egg. His eyes are dark. Unreadable, even though I used to be able to read them so well. He used to say, YN, you’re the only one who knows me and that’s why I like you best, which always resulted in his sister smacking him on the arm for teasing me. Don’t listen to him, YN. He’s being an idiot, she would tell me.

But later, when I left their home and returned to my own, I would lay in bed with my eyes closed and pretend he really meant it. That I knew him. That he likes me best. That he sees me as more than just his little sister’s best friend. I wanted to believe I had an advantage over all the other girls vying for his attention. I liked thinking I was special to him.

That was before, and this is now.

The last time he teased me was the last time we spoke. Even at the funeral, it was his best friends who threw me out, not him. He hadn’t said a word back then. A face of stone. Grim, emotionless. He was grieving in his own way, unlike his parents who cried all through the service.

Quiet eyes boring into mine, the boy of my childhood dreams raises an arm above my head then cracks the egg between his fingers. As the cracked shell and liquid pour down my hair, I don’t break eye contact and neither does he. I watch the way his jaw sets and his lips thin out. He keeps his eyes on me while the egg runs down my cheeks and drips onto my cardigan.

And perhaps I am shameless because I whisper his name.

“Taehyung…”

A smirk hints at his lips for a fraction of a second before he replaces it with a frown. Barely there before it’s gone again. Shaking his hand out, he flicks away the remainder of the egg and stands back, distancing himself from me. I fist my hands again, and keep them tight by my side.

“Enjoy your breakfast, YN,” he jests, not a trace of a smile to be found. “Sorry, I forgot to bring the salt and pepper.”

When he leaves, I count to three again before reaching up to touch the broken egg flowing through my strands. The yellowy fluid is rancid. He used a rotten egg. I don’t know why this adds to the pain.

Turning on my feet to watch him walk down the road to meet his friends, I think back to the first time we met.

I was seven, and he was eight.

I was far too shy back then to say hello to anyone at the park. But his sister wasn’t, and neither was he. Hyeryung and her brother were social butterflies. The best of friends who had no trouble befriending me.

I was sitting in the sandbox trying to build a castle when she asked for my name. Once I told her, she ran to grab her brother and forced him to say hello to me. And when he did, my little seven year old heart felt like it was soaring. It felt like the best feeling in the world. I knew right then and there that this boy would mean something special to me.

Later, almost a week later, Hyeryung came over to my house for the first time. That was the weekend my older brother was having his eleventh birthday party. I didn’t know it back then but that was the day Hyeryung’s own little seven year old heart soared, too.

. . . ❤ . . .

Back inside the house, I stand in the foyer to gather my incessant jittering and shaky limbs. With the putrid scent of the eggs all over me, I know I need to shower if I want to feel anything like a normal human being again.

Quietly taking off my slippers, I lay them to the side and start walking towards the stairs when I hear someone slurp. The sound directs my head towards my little brother at the breakfast table with a bowl of cereal in front of him. He keeps his eyes trained on my figure, taking me in in all my misery while I stand at the foot of the staircase. Blindly, I reach up for my hair. I don’t want him to see me like this.

“O-Oh, you’re awake,” I greet anxiously, trying to smile despite the flickers of dry egg yolk on my cheeks. “Did you sleep well?”

My brother blinks twice before he reaches in for another spoon of cereal. Around a mouthful of Coco Puffs—which I’m sure are stale since I don’t remember buying a new box on Saturday—he says, “If you wanted to go out, you should have used the back door.”

“R-Right,” I mumble, glancing down at my dirty clothes. Before I look back up, I plaster on a smile. For both our sakes. “I bought some Corn Flakes on the weekend—”

“Did Tae throw eggs at you, too?”

His question feels like a blow to my stomach, sending me flying back out the door I walked in from. Just by the way he nearly whispers the question, I know he didn’t want to ask it. And even more, he is afraid of the answer.

All these years, despite their age gap, Jinnie has always proudly claimed Taehyung as a friend. Best friend, he would often correct me when Hyeryung and I teased him about it. Even more than our older brother, Taehyung spent time playing games with Jinnie or helping him with homework. I hate that I can’t fix this for him. I hate that my baby brother’s memories are muddied rotten because of his older siblings.

Slowly lifting my shoulders, I clear my throat and answer, “It wasn’t him, Jinnie, so don’t worry. I’m just going to shower and then we can study together, okay? Before Mrs. Nguyen calls for us.”

With that, I spare him one last broken smile and quickly race up the stairs. They creak absurdly with the weight of my hasty movements, but I could care less. Fresh tears are flowing down my cheeks before I even make it to the bathroom. I don’t bother wiping them and step into the cold shower.

Around fifteen minutes later, I open the bathroom door again and race to my room, dripping wet. Of course I forgot to take a towel in with me. Thinking through my actions isn’t something I’ve been doing a lot of lately. I tell myself if I think less, then the memories and the reminders of two families’ sorrows will fade away.

They never do.

Inside my room, I focus on the painting hanging on a wall next to my bed while I change into jeans and a t-shirt.

Hyeryung painted it, back when we were freshmen. It was a painting which she received a prize for at our school’s annual talent exhibition. She had painted it in under an hour. After receiving the award, Hyeryung pushed the painting into my arms.

A gift, she said. For my second favourite person in the world.

Who’s your first?

You know who.

In the painting, there are two ships. Two different colours, two different styles, two different desires. One ship was painted blue and sitting at harbour. The other ship was a bit further into the ocean, and it was purple.

When Hyeryung was asked what the ships represented, she explained, “A ship in harbour is safe – but that is not what ships are built for.”

I was standing next to Taehyung as she delivered her grandiose speech to the crowd of parents and teachers gawking at her artistry, equally as amazed by her art as I was with her words. But then Taehyung, upon noticing my awe, poked me in the side of my stomach and showed me something on his phone.

A Google search.

It was just like my best friend to quote someone and not give them credit.

Looking at the painting now is difficult. It reminds me of the person who painted it, who helped me put it up, and the person who deserved better than what she was given. A year ago, Hyeryung was a happy-go-lucky sophomore in high school who had her whole future planned out.

“I want to be a pharmacist.”

“Wait… what?”

“I said,” Hyeryung playfully rolled her eyes. “I want to be a pharmacist after uni.”

“You? Seriously? You really want to do that?”

“Why? What’s so bad about being a pharmacist?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, just that… I imagined you doing something in the arts.”

“Nah,” she shrugged. “Painting is my hobby. If I made it my career, I would end up hating it. That’s why I want to be a pharmacist, so I can make lots of money and afford expensive art equipment.” She pauses. “And also so my kids can tell their friends their mother sells drugs.”

“Hyeri!”

The walls of my bedroom are encased in her laughter, as well as my own. Every surface littered with the giggles from my our childhood—nine years old, coming home with McDonald’s and sharing fries; thirteen years old, talking about ‘whatever are we doing to do about our first kiss?’; and sixteen years old, talking about what life after graduation would be like.

My hair smells like strawberries as I unwrap the towel. Thick, mid-length tresses flow down my shoulders in a hue of black and crimson. While I sincerely regret box-highlighting my hair, I can’t help but think it’s the only thing in my life which still means something to me. This was the colour Hyeri picked out for me, while I picked blue for her. We were going to be like those girls in the animes we loved. In a way, this horrible hair-job is a way of celebrating her memory, as much as I am able to.

Jinnie is laying out his books and stationary when I walk back downstairs. Next to his things is a bowl of Corn Flakes and a jug of milk—my breakfast. Smiling to myself, I gently ruffle my little brother’s hair and sit down, crossing my legs as I do so.

Before digging into my food, I ask, “Are you going to see Jamal and Hunter at the park later? Do you want me walk you over there?”

“No.”

“No? Why not? Don’t you want to see your friends?”

Jinnie stops shuffling his pens and pencils, which are already perfectly in order, and mumbles, “They said they didn’t want me to come.”

“They don’t want you to…” as my words trail off into a mist, curdling pain seers its way in as substitute. All at once, I am rendered speechless and immobile. This news is nothing unfamiliar, and while I should be accustomed to it after the passing of an entire year, the truth is that I’m not. My little brother’s words affect me in this moment the same way they did the first time he uttered them. And the second. And the third. And all the times in between. Curling a hand over the edge of the breakfast table, I scoot forward in an attempt to wade off any worry I may pass along to the ten-year-old unknowingly. I paste on a faux jubilant smile and announce, “We’ll go for ice cream, okay? Just the two of us.” I don’t add – and he doesn’t comment – how it’s always the two of us who do anything together anymore. Our father is scarce around the home, and our mother even less so despite the fact that she does not work. Even when I bring dinner to her room, she does not touch it.

Pausing on his highlighters which he arranged lightest to darkest, Jinnie mumbles, “I don’t want ice cream.”

I bite my lip and tighten the grip I have on the table. It’s okay, it’s okay, I tell myself. It’s going to be okay. I can handle this. We may be eight years apart, but I can totally handle this. “Okay, no ice cream. Should we go get milkshakes—?”

“I don’t want stupid ice cream! I want my friends!”

Last year, after the final verdict blazed through the court and the officers took our older brother away in handcuffs, a group of news reporters heckled what was left of our family outside the courthouse. Our brother’s lawyer—the one we had to take out three different loans to afford— had arranged for a cab to pick us up discretely so that we wouldn’t end up on Channel 7 news, but it arrived late, which gave the news hawks plenty of time to interrogate us.

Mom was sobbing while Dad held her, shielding her face from the reporters. This didn’t leave much strength for Dad to protect us. When the reporters were finished recording our mother’s wails and our father’s deathly silence, they turned to Jinnie and me.

“How do you feel about your brother being in prison? Do you think you will be able to live normal lives after this?”

“Was he always aggressive? Did he ever try to hurt you?”

“Do you feel responsible for what happened?”

A video of Jinnie crying went viral on news platforms all around the country. Everyone claimed ‘he was next’ and that they hoped he wouldn’t ‘further his brother’s murderous legacy.’ They claimed his tears were fake—a ruse to gain sympathy from the town which would ‘never recover from such a harrowing loss.’

I never wanted to read the articles about us, but in the midst of my grief, I had forgotten that I was still a teenager. That I still attended high school with 600 other students who had plenty to say to me about what happened.

For the first two weeks after my brother confessed and the police arrested him, my social media was flooded with messages. Some were nice while others were accusatory. One person even made a deep-fake video of me laughing about my best friend’s death, which led to my expulsion from school. Neither of my parents fought very hard to keep me there. Good thing, too, since I wasn’t keen on staying either.

Jinnie still went, despite our court-appointed psychiatrist’s warning that he should be homeschooled like I now was. Little kids, I found, were much less technological. Instead of violent videos of a cartoon version of Jinnie getting his head chopped off by our older brother, his classmates put worms in his lunchbox, lured him with games only to throw baseballs at his head, and shunned him at recess. Even his best friends from preschool, Jamal and Hunter, stopped speaking to him publically. Their parents were afraid of our family, too.

But occasionally, one of the boys—and if he was really lucky—both of them would ask Jinnie to hang out, and it would lift his spirits. He would ask me for permission, then pick out an outfit, dust off his bike and helmet, then wait patiently for the clock to tell him it was time to go. I never admitted it to anyone, but seeing Jinnie sit impatiently on the sofa while the clock ticked was one of the happiest moments of my life. Ever since what happened, joy was rare in our house. I wanted my little brother to enjoy as much of it as he could when it came.

Watching Jinnie now, I feel like his mother. I want to fix everything for him with the twirl of a magic wand.

There are fresh tears streaking his cheeks as he grumpily rearranges his highlighters again—darkest to lightest this time—and avoids my gaze. I know he wants to apologize. Jinnie hates being mad at anyone, especially me. Especially after what happened. I know it’s because he’s afraid of losing me, like everyone else we’ve lost through months which seem endless.

“Hey, hey,” I encourage, laying my warm hands over his shaking ones. I nudge him to look at me. Plastering on a smile which I hope reads sincere, I joke, “Do you remember that time Hunter wet the bed when you were seven? And Jamal cried?”

“I didn’t cry,” he whispers in return.

“That’s right. You didn’t cry at all.”

“I helped clean up.”

“You did,” I hum, scooting closer to my brother so he knows I’m not upset with him. “You always help people, Jinnie. You’re a good and kind person. Anyone would be lucky to call you their friend. Especially me.”

A smile starts blooming on his lips as he looks up. “Are we really friends?”

“Best friends.”

And for the time being, this appeases my ten-year-old brother enough to focus on his school work. When he turns back to his stationary, he doesn’t rearrange his highlighters. Instead, he pulls out his small sketchbook and picks out his favourite pencil before pressing it to paper.

I use this time to turn on our computer and log into Skype. Mrs. Nguyen will call us in a few minutes, and I don’t want to be late for her arrival. There are already so many dreadful adjectives associated with our family’s name. I don’t want unpunctual to be another.

At exactly 8 AM, Mrs. Nguyen’s name and professional photo lights up my laptop screen. I look towards Jinnie to make sure he’s ready. When he nods his head, I click to answer the call.

“Good morning, Mrs. Nguyen.”

The middle-aged schoolteacher smiles warmly at our dual greeting. Her dark auburn hair is pulled back in a loose bun today, and she’s wearing her reading glasses. She must have had a long night because she almost never wears her glasses unless she absolutely has to. “And good morning to you,” she chirps in her usual voice. As she picks up a cup of coffee to take a sip, she asks us, “Did you both have a good morning?”

“Yes, we did,” I answer for the both of us. Short, direct answers. After a whole year of managing questions from reporters, counselors, teachers, and everyone in between, I had grown to realize the shorter I made my sentences, the easier the lives of others became. No one wants to hear about our grief. No one wants to know that our mother hasn’t left her room in a year or that our father drinks himself to sleep every weekend or that this morning, I got pelted with eggs by the boy I’ve been in love with all my life.

Mrs. Nguyen smiles and asks, “Jinnie, I marked your math test. I’m pleased to announce you received an A.” Jinnie can hardly contain his excitement as he grins and practically vibrates in his chair. “And YN, your essay on the role of censorship in advertising was a marvelous read. You also received an A. I’m very proud of you both for working so hard this term.”

“Thank you!”

“You’re very welcome, Jinnie,” Mrs. Nguyen replies before she reaches for her phone. “I would like to schedule a meeting with your parents to discuss school in September.” She scrolls through her phone for a moment before going, “Jinnie will be entering middle school, and YN—university, I presume?”

“I set up online classes with a certified sixth grade teacher for Jinnie in September,” I answer, feeling my hands shake under the table. Again, I go to grip it to keep myself from tipping over. “But I won’t be attending university.”

“Oh… college then?”

“No. Not college either.”

All of us are silent for a few moments as the significance of my answer dawns on our teacher. As Mrs. Nguyen’s brows furrow in confusion, I brace myself for her upcoming question.

“YN, you are a very smart girl. I can’t imagine that you would be alright with skipping post-secondary education. Have you spoken to your parents about this?”

“Yes,” I gulp, lying straight through my teeth. I’ve gotten very good at it—lying. Among other things. “They’re aware of my decision.”

Mrs. Nguyen sinks back in her seat, as if everything she had planned for this morning just evaporated into thin air. I feel the guilt of such crawl up my neck and begin to choke me in silence. “There are plenty of colleges and universities which offer part-time schooling, my dear. Most of them would be very accommodating to your specific needs.”

“I understand that. I’m just not interested in going to college.”

There is an edge to my seemingly mundane words which appear to slice through Mrs. Nguyen’s good conscience. Where once she deemed herself prepared to argue with me about my future prospects, she now collapses under the weight of our unspoken rule to never argue in front of Jinnie.

“Very well then.”

Though our conversation ends there, my phone screen lights up with an incoming message.

mrs. nguyen: lets talk about your decision later.

For the remainder of the next hour, Mrs. Nguyen teaches Jinnie about Egyptian hieroglyphics. Then the following hour, she tutors me in data management and statistics. While Jinnie continues drawing in the living room, and I begin packing up my belongings after the second hour nears its end, Mrs. Nguyen coughs to catch my attention. I know what’s coming before she even utters any words.

“YN, I know it is difficult due to your parents’ work, but please arrange a time for me to speak to them about the future of your education,” she says, completely unaware that it isn’t their work which keeps them from talking to her. It’s the fact that they don’t even know that she exists. “I understand that your situation is unique, but it does not mean you have to let go of post-secondary education. Most of the professional world still requires a person to at least have a bachelor’s degree—”

“There’s nothing I want to study, so there’s really no need for me to go to university, Mrs. Nguyen.”

Mrs. Nguyen leans into the camera and retorts, “You can enter university with an undeclared major and make your final decision by the end of the first term of your second year. There are options, YN. I don’t want you to close the door on your future.” When I don’t reply immediately, she goes on to tell me, “Graduation is a month away. Although you missed the original post-secondary application date, I have friends at several different universities whom I can write to in your stead. There are options.”

For the rest of the day, Mrs. Nguyen’s words replay in my head like a broken record. Every time I try to busy myself with a task or a chore or even a small hobby—like painting with Jinnie—her advice flies back to me full force and punches me in the gut.

Back before everything happened, I did dream about attending university. My older cousins loved it. Besides the studying and the late nights and the monstrous lack of self-care that goes into obtaining a post-secondary degree, they all used to gush about the parties, and the extracurricular events, and the clubs, and the boys. Most of the men my cousins are married to now were their college boyfriends.

Admittedly, hearing their stories over the years made me curious. I had wanted to attend university. Hyeri said she wanted to study pharmacy, I thought about studying wildlife biology and conservation. I had always loved animals, had always wanted to have a dog or cat or even both. I never gave it too much thought but I imagined that a degree related to animals and nature would be something I would love.

After Daniel went to prison, I stopped dreaming about anything that didn’t have to do with getting out of this town with Jinnie in tow. University didn’t factor very well into that goal, and it still doesn’t.

. . . ❤ . . .

Two days after graduation, which took place online with a guest list of exactly zero, my cousin Eloise shows up at our front door with a purple suitcase and a sunshine smile. My dad has a lot of siblings, seven to be exact, and all of them have between three to five kids each, which has led to ginormous family reunions every couple of years as our family grew up.

Eloise, nearly my twin as she was born only a month before me, was the closest friend I had aside from Hyeryung. The three of us would often go out together when Eloise would visit during the summers. We got along well, the three of us, and it was always terribly sad when Eloise would leave for boarding school at the end of August.

During my brother’s trial, Eloise’s family was the only one who came to support us. Whether it was financial or emotional support, they had plenty of it. The other members of our grand family pretended we weren’t related to them. Many of them even blocked our numbers and social media.

But Eloise was there for me, and right now, she was here with me—standing in our front door, waiting for me to let her in.

“What are you—?”

“Happy graduation, dimwit,” she greets, smiling from ear-to-ear as she cascades past our foyer and into the living room. No one is there, of course. Dad is at work. Mom is in her room. Jinnie is learning how to code in Dad’s old office. I had just turned on the stove to start preparing dinner. “Where is everyone?”

“Uh…”

Eloise turns on her heel and says, “Let me guess: Dad’s at work, Mom refuses to come out of her room, and Jinnie is being Jinnie?”

Nodding, I step closer. “Ellie, what are you doing here anyway?”

Eloise’s smile brightens. “Glad you asked! I’m moving to Australia at the end of summer for university, so I thought I’d swing by for a girls’ weekend with you before I head home to my parents.”

The words girls’ weekend sends me into a state of nostalgia. Hyeryung and I would talk about taking a trip together—just the two of us—someday after we both graduated. A trip across the country in her beat up Honda Civic Taehyung helped her buy after she got her license. We planned out all the sights we wanted to see and the restaurants and the diners we wanted to eat at and all the gifts we would buy for our friends and family on the trip back home.

When Hyeryung passed, she took the dream with her, and I hadn’t thought about it since.

“I don’t think—”

“You’re not allowed to say ‘no,’” Eloise cuts in, settling herself down on the sofa. “I’m already here.”

“Ellie, I can’t just—”

Eloise leans across the arm of the sofa and says, “Yes, you can. Your dad doesn’t work on the weekends. He can take care of Jinnie for a night or two.” Suddenly, her smile dims and I know exactly what she’s going to say. “You’re not even going to university. You never do a single thing for yourself anymore, YN. Let’s just… enjoy this weekend together, yeah?”

And that is how I end up standing in the middle of a crowd of strangers the very next night while Eloise beelines for the bar.

There is loud party music thumping throughout the spacious room covered inch-by-inch in dancing, swaying or standing bodies. The atmosphere reeks of alcohol and sweat, and it is everything I expected a club to look like.

Darting my eyes left and right, I cross my arms and try to step towards the bar in search of my cousin who is taking an awfully long time to bring our drinks. Some kind of liquor for her, and a non-alcoholic drink for me. I’ve never had alcohol before and I don’t want to start now.

Eloise is standing by the bar talking to a group of men I don’t recognize but who all look to be in their late twenties. Their starving eyes and lustful gazes continually drop down to Eloise’s outfit and I just know she’s eating up their attention.

“Hey, uh—“ I tap my cousin on the shoulder, and she turns to face me with an irritated expression. Instantly, I feel bad for intruding on her conversation and feel my heartbeat pick up speed. With ears burning red, I almost whisper, “Is it o-okay if I go home?”

“Home?”

“Yeah… I feel kind of sick.”

Eloise rolls her eyes a bit then turns back around to say something to the men. They all glance over at me then nod at her. One of them even leans in to kiss her cheek to which she slaps his chest in what can only be described as characteristically her.

When she turns back around, her irises are dark, and definitely full of disappointment. She looks just like her mother when Aunt Marci finds her kids doing something she forbid, like the time Eloise snuck out during a family dinner to meet her then-boyfriend.

“YN,” my cousin sighs, “what did I say in the cab about letting loose?”

“I’m… loose…” Even as I say it, I cringe. That was not the way to say it. Straightening my shoulders, I argue, “Ellie, this is your scene. Not mine. I don’t like it here.”

“Lots of people don’t like clubs when they first come to them,” she returns, ruffling her black hair so the curls bounce. Eloise has always been beautiful, but under the canopy of the foggy club, she looked extra pretty. I wonder what people think when they see us together. An older sister and her whiny baby sister? The popular girl and the nerd? I hated feeling so inadequate next to my own family, but right now, I feel it full force. Eloise goes on with, “But you get used to it and you have lots of fun. Look, let me order you a drink—“ I open my mouth to protest but she’s already calling for the bartender. “To be honest, I was just going to bring you a bottle of water, but this is better. Now that you’re here, I can show you why everyone loves to drink.” To the bartender, she says, “One Jack and Coke, and a Long Island Iced Tea.”

Are both of those for me?

As I’m wondering this, the bartender drops a small glass of what appears to be Coca-Cola on the table. Eloise uses the tip of her finger to slide it my way, and if not for my quick reflexes, I’m almost one hundred percent certain it would have slid off the bar top.

With anxiety racing through my bloodstream, I shakily raise the glass.

“Drink up, little cousin.”

“I’m not—”

Eloise doesn’t wait for me to finish my sentence before she tips the glass towards my mouth. The ice chimes against the walls of the glass as the crisp liquid flows over my tongue and down my esophagus. Its brumal sting gallops down my throat causing me to blink fast.

Leaning away from the glass, I mumble, “This tastes like coke mixed with something else.”

Eloise chuckles and takes two sips of her iced tea. “What you’re tasting is the whiskey.” Placing her drink down, my cousin tilts her head in mock interest. “Gosh, YN, you’re so weird sometimes. How have you graduated from high school and never had a Jack and Coke?”

“You already know I don’t drink.”

“Oh, I’m well aware. I just didn’t know your social life was so boring. Didn’t you and Hyeri ever—”

I lower my gaze at the same time Eloise’s eyes widen three times their normal size.

The two of us never talked about it, but my best friend’s death was a topic Eloise trekked very quietly. In about everything else in life, my cousin is loud and boisterous. She is the life of the party and the roar of the crowd. But topics like family and death are difficult for her, and she almost never speaks of them.

After Hyeri passed, Eloise stopped bringing her up in conversation completely. If she ever did bring her up, it was with the words, ‘your best friend’ or ‘that girl.’ Never her name. It was almost as if Eloise was petrified of saying it. As if some grand significance stood idle behind our friend’s name and she could not bring herself to utter it out of fear of the unknown.

And so, because I know with absolutely surety that Eloise didn’t intend to say Hyeryung’s name, I answer her question with, “No. We never drank. At least, not together.”

Eloise nods and looks away, occasionally sipping on her iced tea as her own ears blaze.

Huh.

It must run in the family.

Minutes of silence later, two of the men from earlier return and Eloise doesn’t look my way as she instructs me to call her if I need anything and to ‘stay by the bar if you aren’t going to dance’ before walking away. Then I watch her be whisked off by men who snake up to her like she’s a film star. And honestly, she may as well be with her larger-than-life persona that I never quite grew out of being envious about.

Turning on my heel, I am about to place my Jack and Coke back on the bar top when a deep voice snickers, “You look like you’re having fun.”

The voice of my childhood dreams freezes me in place. Before I can build the courage to raise my head and look to its source, the blatant sarcasm laced with the veins of his tone buries me ten feet under. Dread, and pure, unadulterated mortification staples me to the ground even as he takes two steps closer.

“What?” He asks mockingly. It hurts. Oh God, it hurts so much. “You can’t look at me now that we’re practically strangers?”

“T-Taehyung…”

“It’s funny,” he drawls, leaning one arm on the bar top. His darkening gaze traces me from the tip of my head to the tip of my green tennis shoes. A gift from him last year. “I didn’t think you would ever have the courage to show up to a place like this. It’s not really your scene, is it, YN?”

The fact that his comment mirrors my earlier argument with Eloise is startling. Although, it shouldn’t be. I grew up with him. He knows a place like this is the furthest from my comfort zone. I just hate that he knows it. I have never fully admitted it to myself, but so much of me wishes any memories he has of me would be erased. I wish we had never been friends. Maybe then, he could be happier never having known me, and I could have lived without the guilt I carry like a phantom limb.

“My c-cousin brought m-me—”

He juts his chin towards my cardigan. “Then maybe she should have told you that most girls don’t dress like that here.” A pause. “Not unless they want to become fresh meat.”

Instinctively, I tighten the cardigan around my body. When my fingers make contact with the cotton, I realize it is the same cardigan I wore that day on my porch with the eggs. Blushing embarrassingly, I mumble, “I’m not fresh meat.”

“To one of the drunk bastards here, you are.”

“W-What do you want, Taehyung?”

At the sound of my question, one of his eyebrows does a slight jump before descending. A smirk starts to play on his lips as he seats himself at the bar. He’s wearing a black zip-up bomber jacket twice his size, and so when he leans across the bar top, it conceals much of his side profile. A disappearing act whenever he wants it.

Tapping spry fingers along the damp, wooden bar, Taehyung hums, “Well for one, I’d like my sister back.” He turns to me with a smile brewed from rage and vindication causing my heart to hammer between flashes of inordinate grief. Of their own accord, my tennis shoes skid back one step, though not quite far enough to miss the remainder of his answer. “But you can’t bring her back, can you? After people die, they’re gone forever. I wish your family had known that before it destroyed mine.”

“Breathe in, breathe out,” she instructed.

I make a face at her. “That’s the dumbest advice ever. I know how to breathe!”

“Just listen will you,” she sighed, rolling her eyes obnoxiously. “It helps with anxiety. Sure, you know how to breathe. But when you’re anxious, it’s like your body forgets what normal functioning is, so you have to help it get back on track.”

“I’m not anxious.”

“You’re literally shaking from head to toe, YN. Just breathe with me, okay, dumbass?” Holding my hands in hers, she counts me through long breaths. “Breathe in, 1, 2, 3… now slowly exhale, 1…2…3…”

Breathing is difficult when I try to focus on it with purpose in the midst of my panic. All at once, whirlwinds of agonizingly lethal pain injects my bloodstream and leaves me both immobile and ready to dash away. Except, in this smoky club where I am a stranger to everyone but two people, places to run to are miniscule in number.

I will myself not to think about it, but when I can’t help it when I do think about the breathing exercises I learned from someone who can no longer teach me anything.

1…2…3…

In the minute I stand vibrating in tandem with the thundering EDM music surrounding us, Taehyung has ordered a drink for himself, and over the rim of the thick glass, he slyly asks, “How’s your brother?”

“You can’t tell Tae.”

“Hyeri… why are you hiding this from him?”

“Dani doesn’t want me to tell anyone. Not yet.”

Rolling my eyes in exasperation, I release my arms from their crossed position. “Daniel is an idiot. An idiot I cannot believe you want to be with. Like… ew, he’s my brother.”

“He’s sexy.”

“Never say that in front of me again! Ew, ew, ew!”

“You just don’t see it because he’s your brother. But trust me… he’s….” her eyes mist over, and it’s the first time I’ve seen my best friend look so moved. “I think he’s the one. I really do.”

Droplets of cold sweat burn the back of my neck as they transcend the path downwards and split in the middle of my spine. The experience is ordinary. Perhaps, more ordinary than breathing has been for the past year. My body and all its corners have learned the art of showcasing my inner trauma in ways which I am still growing accustomed to.

The sweat clouding my back feels like rain in the middle of this putrid club. On any patch of Earth, rain gives life. On me, this rain of sweat fuels my immeasurable anguish—both for the situation and the questions I know Taehyung doesn’t really want me to answer.

He asks them to taunt me—nothing else. Lately, he has learned to become quite good at doing so.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, throwing the apology his way despite knowing that over the thud, thud, thud of the musical bass, it may go unheard. Taehyung doesn’t look at me as he takes another sip of his drink, finishing it all this time. I swallow and try again, despite my nerves begging me to stop. “I-I’m sorry, Taehyung, I—”

His eyes are menacing as he glares me down. “When I look at you, YN, there is only one thing which goes through my mind, and do you want to know what that is?”

Wobbly lips whisper, “What?”

“That I wish it had been you.”

“I think he likes you~”

“Hyeri, stop. No, he doesn’t.”

Hyeri smirks and crosses her arms. “Then why did he specifically ask me to invite you? He even made a card for you.” She pushes a small, white card with the words ‘To YN’ my way. “Do you know how many other girls he made a card for?” Staying quiet has the desired effect because my best friend giggles, “Zero. He only made this card for you.”

“Then… why didn’t he give it to me himself?”

Hyeri shrugs. “Probably because he’s too chicken. And also because he’s dumb and forgot to give it to you earlier. But the tournament is tomorrow and he really wants you to come. You’re going to come, right?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Good,” my best friend grins. “He’ll be so happy to see you on the bleachers.”

His admission punches my gut.

The sound of the EDM music echoes in my ears, as if suddenly further away than it originally was. Though I stand directly in front of him, Taehyung seems to vanish right before my eyes. In his place stands the imaginative illustration of his words and my guilt in combination of a thought I have wished to be real over and over again.

If only it was me.

If I had died instead of Hyeryung, then she and Taehyung could have moved on somehow. They would have had each other, the siblings who some thought were twins based on the closeness of their age and adoring friendship. If it had been me, they would have been able to mourn my loss then continue living because they had a rope in each other to hold on to.

It has been a year and never have I been this way for Taehyung: not during the trial, when my loyalties to my own family froze me to their side; not during the funeral, when I was removed from the venue before I could even see what picture of my best friend they chose for the service; and especially not after, when no one had heard from Taehyung in months and when he did come home eventually, almost no one recognized the man who returned—scruffy hair, exhausted eyes, and limbs so skinny that his jeans were inches from falling off his body at any moment.

As tears spring to my eyes, I don’t wipe at them. They pad down my cheeks, and I whisper, “I’m sorry, Taehyung. I wish it had been me, t-too.”

Taehyung’s gaze traces my tear-stained expression. Despite the room we are in, I feel alone with him now. In this moment, it feels like it’s just the two of us here and every single thing we do will not go unseen by the other. I feel stark naked, and I don’t like it. I hate feeling this way around him when everything I used to feel with him was the exact opposite.

Sensations heightened and heart hammering, I swallow around something thick weighing down my throat. He is staring at me, silent, even as a giggling, much-too-drunk girl bumps into his side and stays there. And so for a split second, Taehyung’s eyes dart to her salaciously stretching her hand over his chest.

Leaning her weight against him, she asks, “Wanna dance with me?”

And as if he has done it a million times before, Taehyung wraps a hand around her wrist and tears it off his chest. The gruff motion seems to startle the strange girl into sobriety, and as she blinks fogginess away, he grumbles, “No, I don’t want to dance with you.”

The girl is smart enough not to start an argument. With her tail between her legs and an embarrassed flush rises high on her angled cheeks, she throws a glance between me and him before running away. The clicking of her heels feels like pinches in my skin as it travels farther and farther away. And when I dare to look at Taehyung again, I almost wish she would come back.

Over the past year, Taehyung has been scarce around town. For one, he had just started university when the news of Hyeryung’s death reached him. Then, after her funeral, he went missing for months. Word in the neighbourhood was that he went to Scotland to see his uncle. Another group of friends said he went to New York to sell his photography. I couldn’t ask around to see which of the floating rumours was actually true.

I remember what Taehyung looked like before his sister died. I wish I didn’t, but I remember it all too well. Like a memory burned to the back of my mind.

Taehyung had a growth spurt sometime during the end of his junior year of high school. He, Hyeryung, and I went back-to-school shopping together and his mother had to buy him three new pairs of jeans because none of his old ones fit him anymore. By then, his style had changed from ‘anime fanatic’ to ‘rich art student,’ too, and so his mother shelled out over two hundred dollars on new shirts and shoes, as well. And so by the time the three of us started school again, Taehyung was suddenly a part of the popular crowd. They opened their arms to him so quickly that it gave me whiplash because I could remember only a few months before when none of them wanted to be seated close to us. We were a small school in an even smaller town, and it was difficult to join new friend groups once they had been established. But Taehyung was different and I knew it.

Hyeri called him a traitor for joining the popular crowd, but I didn’t agree. It’s not like Taehyung forgot about us. His priorities were just different now, and we had to adjust to it. I never told Hyeri, but I liked watching Taehyung bloom into the extroverted, confident, and handsome man he was becoming. It was like watching the smallest star in the galaxy learn to shine brighter than it used to.

I still feel this way, though it is quieter now. It has to be. The circumstances have forced me to be, and once again, I have learned to adjust.

“You’re pathetic,” he seethes, eyes the colour of murky water after midnight. Every word from his lips is a laceration, and a targeted whip against my heart. I am shaking beyond measure, and by now, I am too far from the table to grip it. The man in front of me keeps going. “I wish we had never met you. All you and your family ever did was bring misery into our lives. I wish my sister had been smart enough to see that.” He takes two steps closer. I don’t do the noble thing and move back. It’s like I’m glued in place with nowhere to go. “And you know what? I resent her for that, too. Maybe if she had been smart, she would have seen you for the monster you have always been.”

Taehyung does not cry.

I have known him all his life and not once has he ever cried in front of me. But tonight, he does.

Just like mine sprung with tears minutes ago, his beautiful brown eyes fill with droplets of woe, and suddenly, we are mirrored halves of grief. After a year of mourning apart, we are standing on the same foot path of heartache. Alone, but together.

I would give up anything in the world for you to not be sad anymore.

As Taehyung begins to blink his tears away, I finally take a step forward. My hand, trembling and afraid, reaches up for his face as if it is separate from my mind, screaming at me to stop. Affliction rises from a corner of my heart and rushes down to pool in my stomach. I push past that, too, and touch his face despite everything fighting against me to not do so.

Taehyung doesn’t move back. Not like I expect him to. Slowly, his eyes meet mine in the overcast of the hazy room.

The last time I was this close to him, he had kissed me. It is not a memory I think of with fondness any more. I didn’t think it was fair. What right did I have to dream about a boy whose life I had destroyed? What right did I have to love him?

I tell myself I don’t, that I never did, as I use the pad of my thumb to dust the tears off his warm cheeks. He is stiff, as I expected him to be, but two swipes later, he softens. Perhaps no one else in the raucous club would have noticed it, but I do. I feel it wash over my skin, shuddering and more illuminating than any strobe of colourful lighting around us.

Taehyung traces me with his eyes again, studying my face.

I wonder what he sees. He says I’m a monster, and I can believe myself to be. Is that what he’s seeing? A monster who should have replaced the death of a sister he loved more than anyone else in the world. What colour is this monster? Is she red like the devil? Does she have horns and claws? What love is she capable of if all she does is hurt others?

It is unkind of me, but I selfishly desire for this moment between us to last a while longer when it starts to fizzle. He reads something in my eyes and it seems to wash away the mistiness inside his mind. And then, just like he did the girl before me, Taehyung wraps his long fingers around my wrist and pushes me away.

He does not say a word to me when he walks around my figure and heads into the crowd. Watching him leave splits my heart open. I shift closer to the bar and fall against it, gripping whatever piece of wood I can touch. In seconds, I am soaked with tears all over again.

“Oh, YN…”

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, I shake my head and push through the pain as much as I can, smiling as I go. “It’s okay. Really, I’m fine.”

Hyeri immediately hugs me to her and grumbles, “I don’t know what happened. He made that card for you and he asked me if you were going to come. I don’t know why he would kiss her—”

“I think it was a mistake… me coming here. I’m—I’m gonna go.”

As I pull out of her arms, trying to sniffle less than I was a few moments ago, Hyeri asks, “Do you want me to beat him up for you?”

“N-No.”

Her lips push into a pout. “Tae is an idiot. You’re way better than her. Smarter and prettier and far more talented.”

“She’s literally a cheerleader and she got into a pre-med program at SNU.”

“So what?”

“Uh…”

“He’s just confused. He’s my brother, and I know he likes you. I don’t know what went wrong, but I’m going to fix this. Okay? I’m going to make him—“

“No!” Grabbing her arm, I stop all of Hyeri’s rapid, fiery movements and force her look at me. “It was just a crush. It’s not like I’m in love with him. He should be with the girl he likes, and it’s okay if that girl isn’t me. So don’t worry about it.” I bump my shoulder with hers. “Now that you’re going out with Dani, at least I know there’s a chance we’re still going to be family someday.”

“We already are,” she grins, and wraps her pinky around mine. Her fingers were always smaller than my own, and it was something her brother and I would tease her about all the time. “We’re sisters. Forever and always.”

. . . ❤ . . .

I like driving into the city.

Back when I was still on my learner’s permit, my mother had to drive everywhere with me. And by everywhere, I mean she made me drive to the grocery store or the town mall while she sat in the driver’s seat going over her various shopping lists. My mother loved lists. She could rarely function well without them. I learned how to create a list for ‘getting ready for school’ before I turned five years old. It was instilled in my brain that ‘living is only done right by those who organize their lives.’ My mother was a perfectionist, and strived for me to be the same.

I started driving alone a year ago, after I passed my second road test. It happened only a week before Hyeryung went missing. Back then, when I was cruising down the empty road behind my neighbourhood listening to Brighten at the perfect volume, I never could have imagined what a few days into the future would look like. No one could have.

There aren’t many people around at this time of day. After all, it’s 7 AM on a Sunday. Everyone is sleeping in or just getting ready to sleep in following a night of Netflix binging or video gaming. I went to bed early last night to avoid doing the same as I had grown prone to lately. With not much to do now that school is out and I am officially a graduate, I spent the past week watching a lot of television despite how it strained my eyes and gave me headache after headache.

As I pull into the parking lot of the town sports shop, I notice Kevin, the store manager, unlocking the front door. I quickly locate a parking spot then kill the ignition. I have exactly twenty minutes before the shop opens for business, which means I need to get to Kevin right away.

I pull down the driving mirror and check my face.

Eyebrows are fine.

Eye bags hidden by drugstore concealer.

My skin is a bit saggy, but that’s okay. No one will really notice.

My lips are—

I quickly apply lip tint then sigh against the driver’s seat. I’m already worn out from stress and I haven’t even gone in there yet. I think my brain knows how scary and exhausting the trek is going to be so it’s decided to keep me from trying my luck. If only I was willing to abide.

No one in my family knows that I’m here.

I wanted to tell Jinnie, but thought better of it since he’s prone to overthinking. He might have tried to talk me out of it. Dad was asleep when I left, and Mom was talking to her sister on the phone. At least, I think she was. I heard the words ‘I want to die’ a few times and she only ever says that to Aunt Yura. She said it to me once, but I think I cried too much afterwards for her to try it again. It’s messy—dealing with someone else’s emotions when your own are so amply charged. My mother transformed into a shell of the person she once was after they took my brother away in handcuffs. Over the months in trial, and between prison visits and being harassed by the town, bits and parts of my mother began chipping away until all she was left with was something unrecognizable—to us and to herself.

Kevin is fixing an arrangement of hockey sticks near the back of the shop when I walk in. He doesn’t turn around as I expect him to, which leaves me standing awkwardly between the doorway and the register, wondering if I should call attention to myself before he realizes I’m there.

“We’re not open just yet—”

Swallowing, I go, “H-Hi.”

Kevin is taller than a lot of men in our town. At six feet four inches, he towers over a great deal of the male population of Butterpond. There is a big picture of him and his basketball teammates hanging on the wall outside of the gymnasium of the local high school, and if you ever eavesdropped on a group of boys standing by it, one of them was bound to claim he would be just as tall as Kevin someday and join the NBA.

Daniel and Kevin graduated together. They were best friends once. The two of them were ‘two peas in a pod;’ consistently side-by-side growing up. Good thing, too, and perhaps only natural, since our father and Kevin’s were also best friends since childhood.

When Hyeryung’s body was found in the backseat of Kevin’s Mazda, no one knew what to think. The best friend? It was a story which ran for exactly six hours before Daniel turned himself in, unbeknownst to our family. My mother cried a lot that day, and so did Jinnie and I. Dad was a rock—his go-to emotion of choice. I can’t say much has changed since then.

Kevin never said a word about what happened the night they found Hyeryung in his car. Not to his lawyer, not to his family, not to us, and especially not to any reporter. An out-of-town podcaster running a true crime podcast reached out to him a week after they buried Hyeryung, and despite how much money they offered for Kevin’s story, he stayed mute. Whether it was because he was hiding something or because of his loyalty to my brother, no one knows.

And as I stand here, in Kevin’s shop a year after the last time I saw him, I wonder how many secrets Kevin still keeps.

“YN…”

I do my best to ignore the pang in my chest upon hearing the surprise in his tone as I take two steps forward. Kevin’s light brown eyes follow my footwork until I am standing less than a metre away from him. I can only imagine what I look like to him in this moment.

Growing up, Kevin would often refer to Jinnie and I as his siblings, too, due entirely to the fact that he spent enough time at our house to warrant it. It was fun having Kevin around. He and Daniel would play video games together or show us scary movies which we later had to lie to our parents about, and on the odd weekend, they would let us join them for fun activities, too.

I missed Kevin all these months because even though I had never said it out loud, I thought of Kevin as my big brother, too.

“How have you been?”

Kevin moves towards me with one step in my direction but then stops, like he’s afraid of the closeness. In a quiet voice, he replies, “I’m fine… what are you doing here?”

There is no one else inside the shop, but it feels like I’m being watched by a hundred people when I reach inside my tote bag for my resume. I hold it out for Kevin’s uncertain hands. “I want to work here.”

Kevin’s eyes snap up. “What?”

“You’re hiring, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“I saw your job posting at the grocery store over the weekend,” I add in before he can talk me out of my request. “You need someone to work in the back of the shop.”

The hand holding my resume falls limply to his side, effectively sending my heart into overdrive. Please, please don’t say no. I need this. “YN, I can’t—” A sigh escapes him as he places my resume atop a nearby box. “I can’t hire you for that job, YN. Please look somewhere else.”

“But… why?”

“I just can’t.”

When Kevin turns around, I know exactly what he’s about to do. As someone who does it quite often, it is easy enough to note the signs on another person—Kevin is going to walk away and hope I take a hint to do the same.

But I won’t.

Because I need this job.

Besides the fact that this may be the only place in town where I can still walk in without covering my face with a mask or a hoodie, this is also the only place which receives less than a few customers a day, meaning I don’t have to face anyone who would spit on me without thinking twice. I can lie to myself all I want, but I’m not as strong as I thought I would be when my father said you’re the oldest now after they took Daniel away for the last time.

“Kevin.” Saying his name rings a bell inside my heart, somewhere deep and lonely. Perhaps it is because I haven’t said it for months and months. Or maybe, it’s because of the way he turns back around with pained eyes I’m nowhere used to seeing on him. My words are wobbly as they murmur, “Please, Kev. You’re the only one who—”

The sound of a heavy door bursting open tears us away from the disagreement. The back door of the sports shop swings open to reveal a familiar bed of brown curls, and sun kissed skin. His skin shimmers where the short sleeves of his white Calvin Klein shirt don’t reach, exposed biceps curling to accompany the grip his hands have on a small box he carries in.

Taehyung does not notice me at all, and says to Kevin, “Diego dropped these off. Should I put it next to the baseball gear?” And then he does notice me and with the way his eyes darken, I wish I had taken the initiative to hide when he was unaware of my presence.

“YN was just leaving—”

“No, I’m not leaving.” The tone and finality of my voice scares even me as I stand my ground before the older man. Though my hands shake a bit, I argue, “You can’t d-discriminate against me for this job.”

Kevin’s shoulder slump into a position which tells me he has lost, at least a little bit. Sighing to himself, he tells Taehyung, “Put it down by the baseball gear. I’ll take a look at it later.” To me, Kevin asks, “Can you lift more than 50 kilograms?” But before I can reply, he shakes his head and says, “I know you can’t, so just… just be careful, YN. Please.”

I hold my breath until Kevin walks off, heading for Taehyung who won’t stop staring at me. I turn around and squat to untie my shoelaces just to re-tie them. Anything to get him to stop gazing my way. I used to dream about the day when Taehyung wouldn’t be able to stop himself from looking at me, but now that the day is here, all I want is to go back to the way things used to be.

In more ways than one.

“Hyeri… don’t be mad…”

My best friend blinks up at me, probably thankful for the minute-long holiday from her sixth grade math homework. “What’s up?”

“I think I like—” I squeeze a sofa cushion closer to my face as a fierce blush blossoms over my cheeks. “IlikeTaehyung.”

“What?”

“IthinkIlikeTaehyung.”

Hyeryung tears the cushion off. “Say it again. I couldn’t hear you.”

With a sharp inhale, I whisper, “I like Taehyung.”

Hyeri’s shoulders drop. Her face is expressionless. “My brother, Taehyung?”

“Y-Yeah…”

Suddenly, Hyeryung’s face breaks out into the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on her. She looks like she could explode from joy. It makes my heart grow calmer. “YN! What?! Really?! Do you really like Tae?!”

“Yes…”

“This is so perfect!”

“Really?”

“Of course it is! My two best friends liking each other! What could be more perfect than that!”

“I don’t think Tae likes me, though…” I start playing with a loose string, twisting it around my forefinger. “He doesn’t even notice me. He just plays soccer or guitar all day.”

Hyeryung smirks. “Sure he does. He asked me what he should get you for your birthday.”

My brows pull together as confusion floods through me. “But my birthday is seven months away.”

“Exactly.”

. . . ❤ . . .

Everything in my chest twists and burns as I reach down for the first box of men’s winter jackets.

There are approximately four boxes of unsold menswear from the winter season which never sold out. Kevin asked me to tape them up and place them in the back, behind all the new summer items like flip-flops and sun tan lotion. I hadn’t expected the task to be so daunting. After only a few minutes of heavy lifting, my arms hurt so much that I’m afraid they may never regain proper mobility.

The pain makes me realization I am not cut out for this job despite how much I wanted it last week. But when I compare this pain to the one of feeling stuck in this little town, I ignore my body’s cries and keep pushing.

Kevin isn’t around a lot, preferring to work in his little office where no voices can be heard coming out. But everywhere I turn, Taehyung is there. He mans the register six out of the eight hours we work, and when he isn’t doing that, he strolls around the shop fixing and rearranging items on shelves that look as though they have not been touched since they were placed there.

Most of my time at the shop is spent trying to pretend I don’t notice him. But in trying not to notice him, I only end up noticing him more. Like the way he stands by the water dispenser for minutes at a time, drinking out of the small, paper cups until they get soggy instead of using a bottle. Or how he makes funny faces at himself in the store window whenever he’s bored (he’s very good at doing a horrible Joker impression. Or that he calls his grandmother every other day to check up on her, and uses the gentlest voice in order to do so. Or the fact that he pretends I don’t exist even if I walk right past him.

I know the right thing to do is to feel thankful, but I don’t. I just feel hurt, and upset, and alone. Which, considering the circumstances, is not only disrespectful to his sister’s memory, but agonizingly inhumane on my part. I’m making everything about us, when it isn’t, and that’s why, after a week of working away at Kevin’s little sports shop, I think about quitting every few hours. I feel selfish in believing I shouldn’t for the sake of Jinnie and me.

A knock sounds at the door as I’m lifting the very last box onto a sturdy shelf. My chest heaves once I lodge it up there with the rest of the boxes which will hopefully stay put until the next time Kevin decides to bring them out.

I move to the door as another knock flitters past, and before I decide to take a seat on the dirty floor of the backroom. My fingers are numb as they twist the door handle and reveal an expressionless Kevin standing behind it. He keeps his gaze locked on a spot behind me as he speaks, and yet again, I feel out-of-place.

“It’s lunch time,” he murmurs in a voice which tells me he wishes he didn’t have to speak to me at all. And I end up hating myself a little more for putting him in such a position. “Go and take a break.”

Giving him a simple nod, I watch Kevin walk away, probably to inform Taehyung of the same thing. Movement by the front door tells me that Kevin is locking up for the next hour, as is customary for lunch. I go to the small lockers where I keep my things and pull out my lunch bag. It swings from my fingers as I move to the back door, using all my strength to push it open.

Outside, the early July sun waves hello as I find my spot closest to the door. Then, I reach inside my lunch bag and pull out an old bed sheet with the Power Rangers on it that Jinnie used to sleep on. Laying it on the gravel, I push down the ends as much as I can then take a seat in a criss-cross position.

For lunch today, I packed some of last night’s leftovers: a glass noodle stir-fry I learned how to make off a TikTok recipe. Dad pretended to like it for the sake of me being his daughter, Mom hardly touched hers, while Jinnie asked for chicken nuggets instead. I didn’t think the noodles were too bad, but if I could choose between this lunch and a Big Mac, I know which one I’d pick in a heartbeat.

I swirl the noodles around with my chopsticks as a group of ants slowly trek their way up and onto my makeshift picnic blanket. They must have smelt the food and announced it to their troop.

Smilingly, I reach inside my Tupperware of noodles and locate a slice of beef then lay it on the cloth. Almost instantly, they all jump for the meat and take it away with them. I do this a few more times until all that’s left in my lunchbox are a few strings of noodles that look even less appetizing than before. So I cover it up and set it aside, then reach for a cosmic brownie I promised myself I wouldn’t eat but can’t help myself to now when my stomach grumbles out of hunger.

I’m nearing the end of the exceptionally delicious brownie when the door swings open, nearly slapping me in the face. Okay, bad lunch spot. Further away from the door next time, YN.

“What are you doing…?” It’s Taehyung, and he’s staring at me like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. I lower my head out of instinct. He must notice my set up because his next question is, “You eat lunch out here?”

I nod so I don’t have to verbally reply, and also so that I don’t actually have to lift my head and talk.

“I thought you went to McDonald’s or something…” I’m silent as well unmoving in the hope that maybe he will walk back inside without questioning me further. But that’s not the case when he goes on to ask, “Why don’t you eat in the staff room?” The staff room he’s referring to is the small room next to Kevin’s office and the bathroom. It has exactly one table with two seats, a mini microwave, a kettle, and a box of napkins. I would be both stupid and heartless (perhaps more than I already am) if I sat myself in that room next to Taehyung in silence while we ate our lunch.

But now, Taehyung is waiting for an answer I don’t want to give him, but one which I have to. “I didn’t… um… I didn’t want to bother you…”

“By eating your lunch?” I stay quiet again, and I can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “It’s not like I care where you eat your lunch, but just eat in the staff room from now on. I don’t want to be held responsible for you bringing bugs into the shop.”

I know that he knows his argument is weak, and that it’s just his inherent goodness talking, so I nod and agree. Taehyung doesn’t stay outside for much longer after that. I don’t know what he came out here for, and he never shows me. After he leaves, I wait a few minutes before heading inside and to the lockers.

Kevin is waking up from his short nap and as he passes me by, he tells me to finish logging all the winter boxes into the system. It’s one of the various tasks I have to deal with, and in my opinion, probably the most difficult. I know next to nothing about Excel spreadsheets, but Kevin doesn’t know that so he’s never tutored me on it. Most of the time, I turn to Youtube or Google to help me figure it out. Now if only the physical labour was as simple.

The shop has been pretty empty today. Most days are like this considering the fact that summer only just started and a lot of the town folk go on vacation during this time. Kevin tells me that the shop doesn’t see an increase in sales until at least late July, when the vacationers return and their kids start asking for new shoes or sports gear.

As I’m finishing up the winter log, the front door chimes, announcing the arrival of a customer. When I take a peek outside, from where my door was left ajar, I notice Mrs. Bloom and her son, Cody, walk in.

Mrs. Bloom is the wife of the town’s grocery store owner, Mr. Bloom of Blooming Butterpond. Everyone who lives in our town gets their groceries from them. Their prices are reasonable, and their customer service is alright, but I still know a lot of people who order their spices online. The Blooms are one of the richest families in town and anyone who is anyone knows who they are. Mrs. Bloom is especially popular. She is friends with nearly all the women in town, young and old. Back before Daniel’s arrest, she used to be friends with my mother, too. She would come around for afternoon tea sometimes or invite our family to picnics by the lake. Daniel and her older son, Brandon, knew each other from football, too, though they were separated by a three year age gap.

Mrs. Bloom stopped calling and visiting our house first. After she did, all the other women in town followed. One by one, they all cut our family off—terrified for their own sons and daughters.

I haven’t seen nor heard Mrs. Bloom’s voice since last winter, when she gave the local news station a personal account of my brother’s violent upbringing. Not that she was even a part of it. Daniel wasn’t even born in Butterpond, but on the other side of the country while our parents were on vacation.

“Taehyung, honey, hello,” Mrs. Bloom’s voice chirps. It is cheery and full of delight, and everything which screams I come from a lot of money. “How have you been, sweetheart? I haven’t seen you around these days. Are you eating well? How’s your family?”

Taehyung’s voice is less bubbly. “It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Bloom. I’m fine and so are my parents.” I peek my head our further to watch him smile at Cody, a boy only a few months younger than my baby brother. “Hey, Cody. How’s soccer going?”

“I made captain!”

“No way! High five!” Cody jumps high to slap his palm against Taehyung’s. The boy I haven’t seen smile all week is nothing but in front of the customers.

Mrs. Bloom ruffles her son’s hair and grins at Taehyung with pearly white teeth. “We came here to get Cody some new running shoes and grab Brandon’s new football gear. Can you help us out today?”

“Of course. Please, follow me.”

As Taehyung leads them to the section of the shop where we keep kids’ running shoes, I slowly back away from the door and shut it behind me. Knowing myself, I’ll keep listening just to give myself something to do now that I’ve completed the winter log. And knowing Mrs. Bloom, my employment here will become the talk of the town if she sees me.

For the next few minutes, I busy myself with the physical inventory list Kevin keeps by the door. Flip-flops, swim trunks, swimsuits, sun-tan lotion, sunscreen, surf boards… After a minute or so of reading, the words seem to pile together until they may as well have been written in a foreign language. When my eyes begin to blur with the strained ill movement of my eyes, I look away, blinking furiously.

That’s when I hear two taps at the door—Taehyung’s knock.

I slowly pull it open to reveal Taehyung standing there, as expressionless as Kevin was a few hours ago.

“Uh… yeah?”

Taehyung holds up a yellow Post-It note sprawled with his messy handwriting. “I need these Nikes in size 7.” Then he pushes the paper my way before I can ask him to hold on while I go and find it.

The Nikes Cody wants are a limited edition pair of running shoes which came out only a month ago. I read about their stock number in the shop on my first day working here since Kevin wanted me to be well-aware of which shoes would be likely to sell out first and where to quickly locate them. The only thing is… Mrs. Bloom and her son are the first customers to come asking for them since I started my job, and I’ve long since forgotten what I learned last week about running shoes.

I walk through the men’s shoe aisle, scanning the boxes as quickly as possible while flipping through the inventory list just as fast.

“Level 2, Box 2C…”

Level 2 is high enough for me to need a ladder, which I pull to my side from the very end of the aisle. The ladder is shaky as I ground my foot onto the first step, careful to hold onto something so that I don’t fall off-balance. It takes me a few tries to control my breathing as I stand on top of the ladder, but eventually I’m able to find the box I’m looking for and reach inside it. The shoe box is wrapped with a thick film of bubble wrap, which I manage to tear off as soon as I’m back on solid ground.

Taking a deep breath, I squeeze my fingers to pump some energy back inside me before pulling the door open. Much to my surprise, Taehyung isn’t there like I expected him to be. With confusion growing in the pit of my stomach, I glance around several times to see if maybe he was scrolling through his phone close by, but he isn’t. He isn’t there at all.

I don’t know what I’m doing when I slowly walk out of the back room and towards the main part of the shop where anyone could see me. Usually, I never walk out when we have customers. I know Kevin has never said it, but his eyes on the day he gave me this job was enough to tell me that I wasn’t really allowed out here at all. His shop has been in the family for decades. I can’t allow my family’s reputation to destroy it.

Yet here I am, walking forward with my gut twisting the way my chest was earlier this morning. And when my eyes fall upon the scene I walk up to, the biting sensation strengthens so tight around my ribcage that it is a wonder I am still breathing.

Mrs. Bloom appears to be talking on the phone a little ways away, while Taehyung bounces a soccer ball on his knee, seemingly to show Cody how to do it. Cody is smiling and giggling cutely at the way Taehyung appears to mimic real soccer stars. I probably shouldn’t think much of it except that I do. Because this small blip in time marches in tandem with the days Jinnie would stare up at Taehyung with all the love in the world pouring from his sparkly eyes.

“Tae, I don’t think Jinnie will be any good at soccer,” I whisper to the brown haired boy. I feel bad for saying it, but Jinnie hasn’t always been the greatest at sports. That was more Daniel’s forte. But these days, Jinnie was missing our older while he went to visit colleges with our Dad, and he wanted to impress him when Daniel returned. “He can’t even throw a ball.”

Taehyung grins towards Jinnie. “Good thing that soccer balls aren’t meant to be thrown.”

I was right in the end—soccer was not Jinnie’s strong suit. But Taehyung was against my ‘poor spirits’ as he called it. He wanted to show Jinnie that it was perfectly possible for anyone to learn how to play soccer, even if it took some people longer to learn than others. And the thing is, Taehyung did show Jinnie exactly what he set out to do. Over and over again, Hyeri and I would be hanging out after school, studying for an upcoming test or painting our nails pretty in pink, and Taehyung would come by looking to hang out with my baby brother. Jinnie loved it. He started calling Taehyung his big brother, too, and Taehyung wore the badge like an honour.

I’m sniffling back tears before I even realize they’re falling while the shoe box shakes in my hands uncontrollably. That’s when Taehyung glances my way, and immediately stops what he’s doing to walk over to me.

“Are you—”

“YN YLN, is that you?” Mrs. Bloom slides past a befuddled Cody and straight up to me, bypassing Taehyung who blinks at her aggressive stance. Mrs. Bloom is a woman much taller than I am, and when she stands so close, I feel cornered in, like a mouse with nowhere to run. I try to meet her fiery eyes, but am unable to when she starts speaking again. “What are you doing here?” To Taehyung, she incredulously wonders, “Taehyung, honey, don’t tell me you work with her?”

“Ma’am, I—”

Mrs. Bloom snaps her gaze to mine. “I’m not speaking to you, YN, now am I? I’m speaking to this poor boy whom you’re troubling with your presence.” Her eyes narrow as they take me in. “The audacity! Do you lack a conscience, YN? A heart? Is your family a pack of wolves?!”

With each word her burgundy painted lips spit my way, my heart crowds in on itself. It’s hard to breathe, and I can feel something thundering inside my chest, willing me to fall to the ground in foetal position until everything around me goes away. It may work out well for her, too, since she’d have plenty of small tidbits to sprinkle her story with for the other town folk to listen to.

Though before I can move out of her atmosphere, Taehyung steps forward, and effectively shifts Mrs. Bloom’s attention to himself.

“Mrs. Bloom, let me ring you up,” he suggests with a slight wobble to his voice. His eyes are indecipherable as he looks her way. “I can offer you a 15% summer discount on the shoes.”

As he does so, I use the back of my hand to push away my tears and square my shoulders. This is not the worst thing you have ever been through, I remind myself as I start walking back to the inventory room. I can still hear the chattering of Mrs. Bloom and Taehyung at the register when I touch the doorknob. Then, as I start to pull it open, I hear Taehyung call my name.

He’s right behind me wearing an uncertain expression. It’s one I can fully read this time, and it sets my gut aflame.

“Yeah…?”

“Mrs. Bloom, she…” he raises his arm to rub the back of his neck, both awkward and unsure. “She wants you to carry Brandon’s football gear to her car.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes.”

I do my best to ignore the way my chest tightens again. My still-damp eyes swim to the front door where Mrs. Bloom stands waiting for me, one hand on her hip and frown evident even from afar. Gathering my strength, I nod at Taehyung then move towards the older woman who huffs as I reach down to pick up the box. Just like all the boxes have been today, this one is heavy, too, and I struggle to hold it up. My weak arms shake with the intensity of the weight as I walk through the door, noticing Taehyung trail behind me and up to the register.

Mrs. Bloom’s car is parked right outside the shop. It’s a silver Hyundai Palisade with a personalized licence plate which brokenly spells out her first name. As I stand there on the concrete waiting for directions about what to do with the box, Mrs. Bloom helps Cody with his seat belt. I shift on my feet as I wait, trying to imagine what worlds are inside this box which make it so hefty while she finishes up. Afterwards, she flips open the trunk then stands behind me as I try to place the box inside. Except, there’s no space since the entire trunk is filled with groceries.

Awkwardly, I stutter, “M-Mrs. Bloom, w-what should I do with the, um… with the groceries?”

“Move them, obviously.”

I don’t argue with her and start moving the plastic bags around. Her gaze is hawk-like as she watches my timid movements shuffling vegetables and produce aside to make space for the sports equipment. Eventually, I find enough space to fit the box and load it in. Then before I can move my hand away rapidly enough, Mrs. Bloom nearly closes the trunk on them.

With my heart pulsing a mile a second, I’m stupid enough to think this is all she will do when I take a step back and she turns around. In a split moment, her full hand comes flying my way, striking my right cheek.

Splintering agony explodes behind my eyelids and throughout the expanse of my brain, causing my eyes to squeeze shut involuntarily. My nose makes a weird sort of sound as Mrs. Bloom’s hand moves back, and she snickers.

“Your family will pay with hell for what they did to poor Hyeryung and the Kims,” she spits while I use my utmost power to stop my shaking hands from reaching for my face, lest I show her disrespect. “I don’t know where you found the nerve to work here, but rest assured that one of these days, someone will come along to put you in place!”

I don’t get to say anything to her as she huffs one last time before climbing into her car and driving away.

The walk back to the shop is harder than I imagined it would be. With my stinging cheek and my shaking limbs, it’s difficult to ground myself in the reality I’m living. But then I think about Taehyung behind the register, and how I don’t want him to see me like this. I start rubbing both my cheeks as I near the door and by the time I’m grabbing the handle to open it, I hope against hope that Taehyung will not question me.

Then my hope breaks when he does.

“YN…” His quiet voice is a thousand sad songs bursting through to my veins simultaneously. I know he saw everything. “Are you… okay?”

“Mhm.”

“You should have—” Taehyung cuts himself off. Should have… what? Stood up for himself against her accusations which you and the rest of the town share? “Go take a break or… something. I’ll let Kevin know—”

“No, I’m fine.”

“YN.”

I lock eyes with him. “I’m fine, Taehyung. There’s no need for you to worry about me. I can handle myself.”

And with that, I walk off to the washroom before he gains anymore courage to destroy me with words which hurt lightyears more than his silence.

“Tae, I’m fine—”

Taehyung gently blows on the scratch against my leg where I fell of his new bike.

I had been wanting to ride it all week and he had finally giving me the chance to do so, only to have me fall off barely a minute into riding. Now the two of us were sitting on the end of a sidewalk, while I tried to hold back tears as the pain from my small wound tore away at my nine year old heart.

“I’m sorry, YN,” Taehyung whispers as tears pebble along his waterline. He stares up at me worriedly. “I should have held onto you longer. I didn’t know you were going to fall off like that.”

I smile to comfort him in the place of my hand which was too afraid to touch him just yet. “If I’m with you, I don’t care about falling.”

. . . ❤ . . .

My car won’t start.

It is well into mid-July now and the nighttime air feels muddier than the crisp air our town experiences the remainder of the year. It’s obnoxiously hot, and despite the air conditioning I was stationed next to for the past eight and a half hours, it feels like pure torture to be fighting with my car’s engine out in the parking lot where Kevin’s car is missing.

Kevin and Daniel used to work on my car all the time. Well, back then it was Daniel’s car and he adored taking care of it as if Esmerelda was his daughter (yes, he named her, and no, I was not allowed to change her name). Daniel took care of her all throughout high school and when he moved away, he passed the car along to me seeing as his college town was well-equipped with accessible public transportation.

Daniel loved Esmerelda no matter what—even when she gave him a hard time. Whenever that would happen, he and Kevin would spend hours gruelling over her ‘body parts’ and experimenting with different techniques to fix her from videos they found on YouTube. Kevin was always more hands-on, though, and managed to figure out the problem much faster than Daniel did. But during the short time they managed a makeshift mechanic shop out of our family garage one summer, they both took credit for the work.

I wish Kevin was here right now to help me with my car.

I don’t know how to get home without it. Calling Dad during this hour would mean that he would have to drive after drinking, which obviously wasn’t happening. Mom would not bother to answer her phone and even if she did, the last thing she would be capable of doing it getting behind the wheel to come pick me up from a job I have yet to tell anyone but Jinnie about. Speaking of Jinnie, I wish to all the stars above me right now that Jinnie could magically come and save me. Or that I could save myself from this mess.

I just want to go home and take a shower.

Today was a bad, bad, bad day and I just want to wash everything about it down the drain so I no longer have to sit with the motions and decode them. Am I getting punished by God for what my brother did? Am I a monster for working next to Taehyung when my family is the reason why his is missing a piece? Am I stupid enough to believe I’m not awful?

As I’m contemplating all of these questions, Taehyung walks out the front door, then locks it behind him. His motions are quick—focused, as if he’s closed up shop a thousand times before. I wonder if that’s true. Taehyung didn’t go back to school like he was supposed to, and everyone in town spread rumours about where he may have gone and what he was doing when he got back. Because the sports shop is a relatively slow business most days, it doesn’t take much guessing to understand that a lot of townsfolk probably don’t even know that he works here yet. Or they do and they have just decided to move on from gossip about the Kim family.

“YN.”

There is an uncomfortable edge to his voice coupled with surprise. He says my name like he hates saying it. Hates knowing that I’m here and that he has to put up with me. I hate that I’ve put him in this position.

“Hey, uh—”

“Why didn’t you go home yet?”

I shift so he can see the upturned hood of my car. “My car won’t, um, it won’t start.”

“Then take the bus.”

His nonchalance as he starts walking towards his own car stops me from answering him. Instead, I start patting my jeans to look for my phone. I find it in my back pocket and pull it out. Google Maps says my taxi fare would be around fifty dollars, bearing traffic in mind, if I call for one right now. The last bus to my neighbourhood stopped running at least an ago. I don’t think Taehyung knows this.

Suddenly, a car horn beeps at me.

Taehyung sits behind the wheel of his car looking stoic and tense. His knuckles are burned tight around the wheel, gripping it with his might. Up above, thunder rolls across the once clear sky. Was it supposed to rain tonight? As I look up to inspect the droplets of rain, Taehyung sticks his head out the window.

“Get in.”

“Why?”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s raining. I don’t want to be responsible for you taking a sick day tomorrow.”

I don’t want to be held responsible for you bringing bugs into the shop.

His earlier words ring fierce in my ears even as I shut the hood of my car, lock it, then get into the passenger seat of Taehyung’s Toyota Camry. Doing so hits me with the regret of not sliding into the backseat. Now I’m going to have to share even closer space with him inside a car that already feels like it’s suffocating me.

Without a word more, Taehyung backs out of the parking lot.

We drive in silence for a few minutes. It’s not as though I expected either of us to fill it, although it does remind of the days when laughter was the tune of choice which played for hours and hours inside this car.

Taehyung would drive Hyeri and our friends around sometimes, or he’d bring his friend, Jimin, and the four of us would go exploring out of town. We’d always get in big, big trouble with our parents (I was grounded for a whole month one time), but it was worth it. None of us ever regret what we did together. We had all the pictures and videos and memories to prove that our youth was something beautiful.

I train my gaze on the tote bag I carry everywhere with me. Hand-stitched words read, trust the timing of your life, with Hyeryung’s name stitched at the bottom. I fold the bag over so Taehyung doesn’t notice it.

“You don’t have to take me all the way home. I can—”

Taehyung reaches out to flip the radio on. A chorus of a loud pop song starts to blare.

A bead of sweat forms and trickles down the back of my neck, and my hands start to shiver. I squeeze them into fists under the tote so he doesn’t notice them either. I sit like this for the remainder of the ride, hating myself for accepting it when I could have sat just as uncomfortably inside a taxi.

When we were kids, Taehyung and Hyeryung used to put on mini musicals for their parents. They were both pretty decent at singing, and loved the attention, so it made sense that they would show off for their family who adored them.

Taehyung loved to sing oldies music, like the kind you would have heard on the radio in the 70s and 80s. They were his parents’ favourite, and anything they liked, Taehyung would instantly grow an attachment to, as if his life’s purpose was to please his mother and father.

I always admired that about him, especially since my own relationship with my parents was something I felt as though I was always building towards but was never truly mine. And after Daniel went to prison, what was left of our relationship disappeared for good. Dad tries his best to stay out of the house as much as he can, and Mom never speaks to me unless she has to. Sometimes weeks pass and I wonder if she even remembers me and Jinnie’s names.

We are nearing a red light when the song changes. It’s a song I would recognize anywhere, and I know Taehyung would, too. What Makes You Beautiful, the song of our summers. The three of us would sing it loud and proud everywhere we went, not caring who saw or heard us. Those were the moments when I truly felt like I belonged to my friends, like they were really mine and not someone else’s.

I clench my hands tighter as Taehyung starts to hum along. He doesn’t belt the song like he used to, when he would use old plastic bottles as a microphone and make his sister and me laugh until our bellies hurt.

I don’t know when I start crying. When the first tear hits my tote and melts against the fabric, I try to sniffle up the rest so Taehyung wouldn’t see them, but the effort is futile because the boy next to me snickers and says, “Don’t cry in my car.” Then turns the radio off.

Taehyung doesn’t say anything else to me as we drive up to my house. The lights are off and it looks like no one is home except for the small lamp emitting light from Jinnie’s room. Taehyung stops the car at the edge of my street and just stares. I wish I knew what he was thinking. All my childhood was spent hoping that I would one day be able to read Kim Taehyung’s mind without him ever having to speak. But I never did.

The street light is faint so I clutch my phone in my hand as I walk out, careful to whisper my ‘thank you’ instead of voicing it normally. Taehyung ignores me and keeps staring at my house.

There is so much I want to say to him, and talk to him about. We used to be able to talk about most things with ease. Laughed about them, too. Everything from cartoons to school to politics. Now it feels like we are both shells of the people we used to be.

I walk along the sidewalk with my phone flashlight guiding me. The walk is short enough, but I don’t want to risk the fall over something I can’t see. When I get to the house, I use whatever ounce of courage I have left inside me to look back. To my surprise, Taehyung is still there. It’s too far to see in the dark, so I don’t know if he’s still staring at the house or waiting for me to go inside, but I tell myself it’s the former only so I don’t stay up all night wondering about the latter.

. . . ❤ . . .

Mom is wailing in her room.

I hear it sometime after breakfast, when I’m washing the dishes and thinking about what to cook for dinner. Dad is passed out in the basement from the night before and I know better than to ask him to check on her.

I make Jinnie put in ear plugs before I walk to her room.

The door was locked, as it always is, so I go to my room and retrieve my extra set of keys. I also grab a bottle of water that was sitting on my nightstand.

Mom is curled up into a ball at the foot of her bed—her position of choice on the less than normal days.

I place my arm under her body and help her up, sitting her against the fabric headboard. She sniffles but doesn’t say anything. I use the back of my hand to wipe her cheeks then help her take small sips of the water.

Following the second sip, she murmurs, “Is Jinnie okay?”

“Yes,” I reply, ignoring the pang of hurt which bursts my chest open. Are you going to ask about me, too? I smile and add, “We just had breakfast. Overnight oats and French Toast.”

“Okay,” she nods, but I’m not sure if she completely understands. “Take care of Jinnie. He needs to drink his milk.”

“Yes, Mom.”

I leave the room promising to bring her breakfast in a few minutes, but the wailing starts up again as soon as my foot touches the top of the stairs. I shake my head and keep walking.

Jinnie takes out his earplugs as soon as he sees me come down. There is a look on his face which tells me he’s terrified that something has happened to our mother. I wrap him up in a hug before he can question me about it. I’m thankful then, that Jinnie isn’t one of those kids who hates being touched. These days, he is the only reason I manage to keep myself upright.

“Wanna go to the park?”

My brother looks up at me with wide eyes. “Really? Can we get ice cream?”

I ruffle his hair just the way he likes and nod my approval. “Go grab your soccer ball. We’ll head out in ten minutes.”

. . . ❤ . . .

When we get to the park, I’m grateful for its emptiness. Less people means less eyes and less gossip for Jinnie to hear.

I throw a smile toward my little brother. “Do you wanna go on the swings first or play soccer?”

“Swings!”

So that’s what we do.

Jinnie and I both get on the swings together then make a competition about who can go the highest. I’m terrified of heights, absolutely hate them with all my being, but seeing the blissful expression on my brother’s face makes me fight off the demons which demand I stay on solid ground. We swing and swing for minutes until Jinnie jumps off while still in the air. I scream-laugh his name as he grins, waiting for me to hop down, too.

“That was so scary!”

“You’re a wimp!”

Jinnie giggles as I chase him down to the grassy area where he placed his soccer ball. When I’m close enough to reach it, I kick the ball with all my strength so that it goes flying over to the other side. Jinnie laughs and runs after it, his little legs taking him far and far off until I all I can see is his mop of dark hair and blue shorts.

I stand rooted in my spot, waiting for him to kick the ball to me, yet, when he does, the ball spirals past and hits the foot of someone standing behind me. I turn around to apologize only to find Taehyung staring at me, the same way he was staring at my house last night.

Of their own accord, my feet shuffle back, and I’m scared all over again.

Jinnie slowly walks up and instead of jumping up for Taehyung as he always used to, my little brother hides behind my legs. His hands are shaky as they clutch the material of my pants, and I know, without even looking at him, that he wants to go home.

“It’s okay,” I whisper so only Jinnie will hear. I place my hand over his and gently pull him to stand next to me. “We’ll go, okay? Lets go—”

But then Taehyung surprises us by bouncing the soccer ball on his right knee. He makes a show of bouncing it three times before catching the ball and placing it under his arm. Taking a step closer to Jinnie, Taehyung gets down on one knee and smiles at my brother.

“Can I play with you?”

Jinnie’s eyes widen, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. I’m sure mine look the same. “Really?”

Taehyung grins. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile in months. “Yes.”

Jinnie loosens his grip on my pants and looks up. “Can I, YN?”

Taehyung doesn’t glance my way, but I can’t help but stare at him. What is he playing at? I don’t care if he hurts me, but the idea of him hurting Jinnie makes me want to hurl. I’ve never been a strong person—emotionally nor physically, but for Jinnie, I would do anything.

I need Taehyung to know this.

Clearing my throat, I say to Taehyung, “Do you really want to play soccer with him?”

“Yeah, I do.” He looks up. “What? You don’t want me to?”

Jinnie makes a noise and pulls on my pants. He doesn’t want me to ruin his chances of playing soccer with Taehyung again. “N-No, that’s not—” I swallow my fear. “Fine. Thank—”

Taehyung gets up and looks directly into my eyes. I’m not prepared for the way it makes me tremble. His eyes are full of anger and resentment, and a darkness which I would have thought unfathomable a year ago. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this for him. He didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t thank me.”

He didn’t do anything wrong?

What?

As Taehyung takes Jinnie by the hand and starts to lead him away, I fall onto a park bench thinking, then what did I do wrong, Tae?

. . . ❤ . . .

Taehyung is eating a sandwich that looks days old.

I don’t mean to sneak glances at his meal while I eat my own, but I can’t help it when the rancid smell of the sandwich attacks my nostrils. I don’t think he even knows it’s rotten. Or maybe he doesn’t care.

I do, and I hate that I still do.

I push my bag of chips his way. Taehyung looks down at like I’ve offered him tiny mice. His face twists into an irritated shape, but he doesn’t deny himself the barbeque flavoured junk food I bought on my way to work this morning.

We sit in silence while we eat. This is only the second time I’ve eaten in the staff room, and I’m already regretting it. None of the food I eat comfortably trails down my esophagus and into my stomach. It seems to lodge first in my mouth then at the edge of my throat, as if my body is waiting for further instructions.

Taehyung finishes the bag of chips within a few minutes, and I know he wants to apologize for eating all of it, but he holds himself back. He doesn’t want to say anything to me, and for that, I release a slow exhale. I don’t want to strike up a conversation with him either.

Pulling out my phone, I start to scroll through Instagram. Hundreds of pictures litter my phone screen of people my age having the time of their lives in Cancun or LA. Photographs of boys in swim trunks hugging girls in colourful swimsuits; pictures of past friends having a picnic by a sparkling lake; and photos of people celebrating summer birthdays. It reminds me of Hyeryung, and how her birthday is at the end of this month.

Tears sting my eyes.

I miss her. I miss my best friend. I want to turn back time. I want to fix the hurt my family has given to everyone in this town. I want everything to be okay again.

I don’t realize that I’m sniffling until Taehyung clears his throat. I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand before looking up at him. His eyes—dark, mysterious, and totally unreadable—are staring at my phone. Or rather, what’s behind my phone case.

I turn the phone over. There is a picture of Hyeryung and me from our first day of second grade. That was also the day we decided to become best friends forever following an entire summer of playdates at each other’s houses. Hyeryung was wearing a purple shorts with a white shirt and I was wearing white shorts with a purple shirt. We had picked the outfit together when our mothers took us shopping for back-to-school clothes.

Hyeryung has her arm thrown over my shoulder while I’m clutching her waist, smiling as widely as she is. The backdrop is our second grade classroom before all the other kids came rushing in. We have one with our teacher, too, but I like this picture more because it’s just the two of us. Two best friends who thought nothing in the world could ever harm them or their friendship.

Taehyung grabs my phone out of my hands before I can fully register what’s happening. He tears the case off and reaches inside for the picture. I don’t know what to think as he stares down at it with an unfamiliar expression spreading over his features. His chest heaves, though, and his shoulders tense. Whatever he’s thinking, it isn’t good.

My theory is proven correct when the next second, Taehyung rips the photograph in half. Then in quarters. Then in tiny little pieces which scatter over the lunch table like shards of shattered glass.

“Wha—”

His eyes snap up, and this time, they are black. “You don’t get to grieve her,” he retorts. A single tear escapes his eye and falls down his cheek. “She was my sister. My family. You don’t get to fucking grieve her death.”

My heart and lungs and probably ever other organ freezes as his eyes bear into mine. I’m unmoving but even that feels tenacious in the given situation. Taehyung’s white shirt expands with the punch of his shaky exhale while his hands clench firmly on the table. I bite my lip and look down, lowering my gaze.

Every inch of my heart is hammering, like some strange person is whacking at it ferociously. I move one of my hands to grip the table, but Taehyung hits his fist against it. Instantly, my clammy palm moves away from the shaking table. For the first time in my life, I’m petrified by Kim Taehyung, and the suffocating feeling which swam over our heads only a minute ago transforms into deeply sorrowful fear.

My lunch box is still shaking when he growls, “You don’t even regret it, do you?”

“I—”

Another tear drips down his cheek. “Hyeri dated that bastard brother of yours and died for it, and you don’t give a single fuck.” He places his trembling right hand on the table and splays his fingers out over the cold material. “Why do you get to live a normal life when he took hers away? Huh? Why?! Why, YN?!” When I don’t answer, Taehyung grabs the table and flings it so it hits the wall behind him. Terrified, I rise from my chair and move back, but he’s faster. He gets up close to me and says, “Why didn’t you die? Why couldn’t he have taken his anger out on you? My sister—” I try to hold back, but when a sob wracks through my body, Taehyung’s anger deepens. “I told you not to fucking cry in front of me.”

This only makes me cry harder. I feel like my mother as I stand in front of Taehyung crying worse than I have in weeks. A choking feeling rises in my chest and squeezes my ribs tight. I just want this nightmare to end. I wish it was me who died instead of Hyeryung. I wish it every night before bed, and especially now, when Taehyung looks at me with fury lining his irises.

I want the ground to open up and take me. I wouldn’t argue. I would just go.

But then the door is being smacked open and Kevin is staring at the two of us with confusion.

He looks at me first, with my tear-stained cheeks and frightened stance, then at Taehyung, who takes a step back immediately after seeing Kevin. He doesn’t look at me again as he darts past the older man and out to the store.

“YN, are you—”

I wipe at my cheeks and force a smile. “I’m fine, Kevin. Don’t worry.”

“Should I talk to him—?”

“No!” My loudness is a surprise to both of us. Swallowing, I try again. “No, please don’t talk to him. Nothing happened. I’m completely fine. We j-just a-a… um, it was a misunderstanding. We’re fine. C-Completely fine.”

Kevin doesn’t believe and I know it. But I don’t want him to fire Taehyung or worse—talk to him about just happened. It might actually kill me.

For the next few hours, I stay far and away from Taehyung. When I need to go to the bathroom, I triple check the room before scrambling like towards it like a mouse. When I’m thirsty, I beg my stomach to hold onto until I get home to drink water. And when I feel the urge to check on him, sneaking peeks the way I’ve been doing for the last two weeks, I pinch my wrist and stop myself from doing so. All the while, my heart vibrates from the memory of our clash back in the staff room.

By closing time, Kevin swings by inventory to ask me to take out the trash.

“I would ask Taehyung, but he’s…”

“I’ll do it.”

Kevin nods. “Thanks, YN. I appreciate it.”

I time myself well.

While Taehyung goes to the bathroom, I sprint to the trash bins and pull them out, telling myself I’ll tie them when I get outside. Then I pile up all the recycling in the industrial bin and use my shoulder to push open the back door.

I haven’t been out here after it gets dark. It looks different now that the sun isn’t shining and the birds aren’t chirping and there are no ants I can see well enough to feed.

I tie the garbage bags first. Twisting the plastic around in my fingers, I tie them as tight as I can muster then squish them inside the black garbage bin. Thankfully, there isn’t much trash today so when I practice wheeling the bin, it’s easy enough for me.

Next is the recycling. We always get a lot of that. There are boxes—old and new—and various stacks of paper and other miscellaneous items that need to be properly disposed of. Unlike the garbage bags, I struggle to squeeze all the recyclables into the bin neatly. And as I’m doing so, I hear a distinct kick at garbage bin I left to sit idle behind me.

I turn around to inspect the noise, thinking it’s an animal, when I come face-to-face with Brandon Bloom.

“What are you—?”

Brandon grins, and it feels menacing. Panic flushes my system as I take a step back from the recycling. Brandon takes this as invitation to step closer until I can hear the thick breaths he takes.

“My mom’s been telling the town that you work here,” he says. “Thought I’d come here and see how you’re holding up.”

“W-Why would y-you—”

Brandon reaches for my wrist and twists it so my skin burns. I yelp, and try to loosen his grip, but he’s holding on too tight.

“You know, YN, your brother…” he grins again, and it makes me feel sick to my stomach. The dread inside me is building and everything I ever learned from self-defence on YouTube slips from my mind. “He used to tell all the guys that your cute ass was off limits. Said you were too young to be with any of us. But then he went and fucked Hyeri and none of us knew.” He leans in close to me so I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “I’ve never liked hypocrites, especially ones who tell me what I can and cannot have.” He grabs my throat and squeezes. “Imagine if I fucked you right here, right now. I’d put him in his fucking place then, wouldn’t I? Bet you’d feel so fucking tight around my dick—” I bite down on his hand as hard as I can, tasting copper when he screams and jumps back. I start to run from him, reaching for the door handle, when he pushes my front against it with all his body weight. “Fucking bitch! How dare you! I’m—”

Brandon is cut off when someone charges at him. A tall body pushes him to the ground and lands two punches straight to his face. I’m trembling as I step back, and blinking so fast that my eyes may as well fall out.

“Kim, what—?”

Another punch, and this time, it’s one which knocks Brandon out.

The heaviness in my chest grows louder as Taehyung slowly stands back up. He tries to take a step towards me but I flinch and move back.

“Are you okay?” As soon as he asks me this question, Taehyung’s remorse is visible. He swallows and steps over Brandon’s body to open the door. “Go inside. I’ll take care of this.”

I do as he says and then crawl into a foetal position on the floor of the stock room. A few minutes later, I hear a cop car pull into the parking lot. The lights aren’t flashing, but I can hear the distinct sound of their radios asking for the perpetrator and the victim.

“Daniel—Daniel, no! Wait! Officers, this isn’t—“

“Ma’am, please take a step back. I understand that you are in distress but we are only doing our job. Please take a step back from the accused.”

My mother didn’t listen and grabbed Daniel’s hands anyway, hands which were bound together by handcuffs. He tried to tell her to stop, but she is a mother and a mother for her child would do anything.

“My son would never do this! Daniel would never do this! He’s innocent! Please, just listen! Please—!”

“Mom,” Daniel whispered, begging our mother to look his way. “I’m okay. Please go.”

“Daniel—”

“Mom,” he tried again, crying this time as several people at the station fell silent. “I hurt her.”

. . . ❤ . . .

The police offer to take me home but I’m not talking. Or moving. I’m not doing much of anything except staring down at my lap as the officers speak to Kevin and Taehyung about what happened almost an hour ago.

I never saw them take Brandon away, but Kevin did, and he confirmed that he would be filing a restraining order against Brandon to stop him from coming near his shop again. The officers then asked told me they would be pressing charges against Brandon in my wake. “Physical assault,” I heard one of them say. “Poor thing. She looks distraught.” The only thing they don’t do is call my parents, seeing as I’m legally an adult in our province and no one is asking where they are anyway.

Taehyung walks into the staff room to see me sitting on the ground. I have my head between my legs, taking small breaths every now and then to remind myself that I’m still alive, though I wish I wasn’t. I’ve spent a lot of time this past year wishing I wasn’t.

“YN…”

I don’t look up, and he doesn’t try to say my name again. But what he does do is sit beside me and gently touch my arm. I recoil from his touch, but he persists.

“You’re bleeding,” he whispers, one soft hand on the side of my face.

I lift it to meet his eyes, warmer than I’ve seen them all this time. He touches my neck where a bruise has formed. I wince when he touches me, and it almost makes him stop, though he doesn’t.

Taehyung reaches for the First Aid Kit sitting in his lap and tidies my wound. He doesn’t say it, but I can tell Brandon’s nails left bruising marks on my skin. Using a wipe, he cleans the wound first then dabs the slashes with a white cream which absorbs into my skin pretty quickly, but not before making me wince from the pain. I do it a few more times as he tends to all the rips, but by the time he bandages them, I’m starting to feel better. Yet, I’m well aware that I shouldn’t.

If Brandon hates me then Taehyung hates me even more. And his is a hatred I can’t fault.

“This is about all I learned from Grey’s Anatomy Medical School,” he jokes, voice above a whisper. He says it to make me laugh, but all I can muster is a timid smile. Standing up, he holds a hand out. “I’ll take you home.”

“You don’t need to. My car is—”

“I know, YN.”

Taehyung’s car is as quiet this time as it was the first time he took me home, and when he drops me off at my house, it’s he stops the car closer to the driveway than the first time, too. Jinnie meets me by the front door, worry written all over his face since I came home later than usual. I pat his head and assure him that I’m okay, and when I glance outside to see Taehyung’s car, it’s gone.

. . . ❤ . . .

Kevin closes the shop for the next few days.

He sent Taehyung and me a text telling us not to come in and ‘recharge’ before he opens the shop up again on Friday. With nothing to do, perhaps more so than usual, I set Jinnie up with his online coding class and decide to deep-clean the house. If only just to take my mind off yesterday.

My whole night was filled with nightmares. No matter how hard I tried to pretend like nothing had happened to me, that whatever did happen was nothing to be so scared about, my subconscious littered my mind with horrific images of Brandon cornering me at every turn. I imagined his Cheshire cat-like grin and his beady, dark brown eyes, and his rough hands tightening around my neck.

I woke up several times in the night, breathless and sweating.

Deep-cleaning is easier than I imagined. With Mom asleep and Dad at work, and Jinnie occupied with his hobby, I got around to everyone’s room pretty easily. Except one. It’s the room no one has been in all year.

Daniel’s room.

After they arrested him, it became an unspoken rule that none of us were to go inside ever again. In a way, I think my parents were safeguarding it for when he would return. For when he would come back and everything would go back to normal. Perhaps we were all a little delusional about it because I never thought about going inside either.

But now, I want to.

Taehyung’s voice rings in my ear as I creak the door open.

He didn’t do anything wrong.

Based on pure assumption, Taehyung must think that I did do something wrong. Something that took his sister from him.

Daniel’s room is hot and full of dust with clothing strewn here and there. There is also his unmade bed, from that weekend he came home to visit us and the weekend that Hyeryung died.

I go to his desk.

It’s filled with textbooks and loose paper. There’s even a manila folder which says, “Final Exam Prep.” I can only assume it has to do with one of the various mechanical engineering courses he was taking.

He also has a wooden framed corkboard with his university’s banner on it, a few pictures of him and his friends, and then… a picture of Hyeryung. She’s alone in the picture, standing in front of an unfamiliar house.

I pull it off the pin and take a closer look.

Hyeryung looks just like her happy-go-lucky self. A picture of pure joy in a cute floral dress and sparkly, blue flats. Her smile is even brighter than the day this picture was taken on. I don’t know what pushes me to do it, but I turn the picture over. On the other side, there is a paragraph presumably written by my best friend.

I love you, Dani.

Maybe you’re going to think I’m crazy for wanting to marry you, but I knew I would from the moment I met you. Disagree all you want, but I know I’m the only girl on your mind. Just like you’re the only man who’s ever going to be on mine.

Love,

Your Hyeri

As soon as my first tear hits the ink, I wipe it away. Then I put the photograph back where it belongs and step away from the desk. But my foot hits something hard and I reach down for it.

Daniel’s old phone.

I don’t know how long it’s been on the floor since Daniel replaced the old generation Samsung with a new one. Picking it up, I’m surprised to see it’s still intact. I sit on his bed and plug in the charger, waiting for the phone to load. I don’t really know what I’m hoping to achieve by snooping through my brother’s phone, but my inner curiosity keeps pushing me forward.

When the lock screen pops up, I try several different numbers.

Mom’s birthday.

Dad’s birthday.

His own birthday.

I know for a fact that Daniel would never make me or Jinnie his password so I gloss over that. I glance over at the picture of Hyeryung again. That’s when it hits me—I’m so stupid.

Hyeryung’s birthday logs me in and takes me straight to Daniel’s home screen in which, there is a picture of him and Hyeri at his eleventh birthday party. The first time they met and our mother made him take a picture with all the kids who attended. It’s the only picture I’ve ever seen Hyeri look shy in.

I click on his messages. There are quite a few unread ones. Oh right, he changed his SIM card, too.

At the very top of the message list is one from Kevin. I click on that, too.

kevin: look man, im sorry ok? it's not like i asked for this

daniel: what? like you didn’t ask to like MY gf?

kevin: why are you making such a big deal out of this? she doesn’t even want me. she wants you. so be happy with that ffs.

daniel: kev, you’re supposed to be my friend. i can’t believe you told her you like her. fuck man.

kevin: again, not a big deal. she said she’s in love with you so.

Kevin liked Hyeryung? Since when? And how come Daniel never told me? How come Hyeryung never told me?

There are a million questions buzzing through my mind but the one at the very top is about Kevin—did he know something about Daniel that I didn’t know? Something that could help make sense of what my brother did to my best friend?

I’m racing out of the room faster than I can fully comprehend what I’m doing. I grab my cardigan off the dinner table, slip my bag over my shoulder, then text Jinnie to let him know that I’ll be back in two hours. I need to find Kevin.

I throw open my front door while I’m still pulling my shoes on when I bump into a hard chest.

“Oof,” the voice groans, but it’s quiet enough to tell me I haven’t done any real damage.

My eyes meet Taehyung’s.

Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung.

Kim Taehyung is standing at my doorstep.

What the fuck—

“Where are you going?” He asks at the same time I question, “What are you doing here?” His cheeks seem to redden, and though I’m in a hurry, this morsel of information does not slip past me. He rubs the back of his neck and quietly admits, “I came to see if you were alright… after everything that happened yesterday.”

I nod. “I’m fine.” Then I try to sidestep him but he catches my wrist. I flinch, thinking about Brandon last night and Taehyung must notice the look on my face because he immediately lets go. “I’m in a hurry, but thanks for checking upon me, Taehyung. Really appreciate it.” I hop down the stairs in a speed of light only to be met with the reality of a missing car.

Right. Taehyung drove me home last night.

“Do you…” He walks up to me and says, “Where are you going? I’ll take you.”

“Why?”

He looks stumped. “Why… what?”

“Why do you want to take me anywhere?”

A shrug. “An apology. Of sorts.”

“What do you have to apologize for?”

“Taking the trash out was my responsibility,” he replies, suddenly unable to meet my eyes. “He never would have hurt you if I’d just done my job.”

I nod, again. I don’t really know what else to do. My heart feels like it’s caving in on itself every time I come close to him and one of these days, it may just stop altogether. “I’m f-fine. Don’t worry.” I pull out my phone and look up the bus schedule. Twenty minutes until the next bus. I can wait that long… right?

“I can still take you… wherever it is that you need to go.”

And so that’s how I end up in Taehyung’s car for the third time.

I give him the address to house but don’t tell him it’s Kevin’s. This is something I need to figure out on my own.

Kevin isn’t home when I ring the door bell, but someone else is. An older woman, probably somewhere in her early thirties, answers the door with a baby on her hip. She sizes me up and says, “What do you want?”

“Uh… I’m looking for Kevin.”

“He’s not home.”

“Okay, um. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Not for a while.”

I blink. She’s really giving me nothing. “Do you know where I could find him? It’s kind of an emergency.”

Her left brow lifts high, so high that it nearly disappears. “What kind of an emergency would a girl like you need my boyfriend for?”

I swallow to hold myself back from stuttering. Her eyes are so stern and hot on my face that I wish against all wishes that I’d ignored my curious heart and never came here at all. “It’s nothing. Thanks for your ti—”

The smack of the door being shut on my face makes me take a big step back. A whirling storm at the bottom of my stomach tells me something isn’t right here. Kevin has a girlfriend? And possibly a kid? He’s never mentioned either. Coupled with the fact that I now know about Kevin’s feelings for my best friend, I make the executive decision to jump off the porch and slip down to the window where I can clearly hear the woman talking on the phone.

Taehyung whispers, “What are you doing?!” To which I wave him off. I need all my attention on what she’s saying.

“Kevin, come home from whatever you’re doing. Some girl came to the house looking for you.” A pause. “How am I supposed to know who she is? Do you tell me about all the women you’re seeing behind my back?” Another pause. Longer than the first. “If this turns out to be like the last girl, it’s you who’s going to die this time.”

I close my eyes slowly, letting the woman’s words sink into my brain.

It’s you who’s going to die this time.

Die.

This time.

I fall back on my butt at the same time Taehyung comes scrambling over to help me. As soon as his hand touches my arm, my eyes snap open.

“We need to find Kevin.”

. . . ❤ . . .

Taehyung parks his car in the parking lot of the local bank. Through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, we can see Kevin standing in line behind a four other people. I never would have guessed that we could find him here, but based on Taehyung’s knowledge about what Kevin usually does on his days off, this is where it begins.

“Why do you want to talk to him so badly?”

“I’ll tell you when I have concrete information.”

Taehyung sits back in his seat and huffs. He looks ticked off, but is trying hard not to show it. “If you’re going to do something that puts you in danger then…” he trails off. I can tell he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence. Not after everything that’s happened between us. “Just be careful.”

“I’m not getting out of the car just yet.” I tell him. “I’m observing.”

“Observing a twenty-three year old man at the bank?”

I nod. “There’s something that Kevin knows that he needs to share with me.”

“Can’t it wait until we go back to work on Friday?”

“No.” I breathe, thinking about the picture of Hyeryung hanging in Daniel’s room. “It can’t.”

Kevin leaves the bank fifteen minutes later. I count down the seconds until he steps out, and as soon as he touches the handle of his car, I rush to his side. His eyes blow wide in surprise.

“Y-YN!”

“Kevin,” I gulp. “I need to talk to you.”

He looks taken aback. “Talk about… what?”

I hold up Daniel’s old phone. “Do you recognize this?”

“No.”

“This is Dani’s old phone. I saw your texts to him.” His face blanks. “About Hyeryung.”

Kevin pulls on his door handle and jumps inside his car. “I don’t have anything to tell you about that. Please leave me alone.” He starts the ignition, but I jump into the passenger seat before he can back out of the lot. He looks at me with fearful eyes as my heart ricochets off its cage. “YN, please. This isn’t—”

“You know something,” I push. “I know you do, Kevin. I heard your girlfriend say that you’ll ‘die this time.’”

“You went to my house?”

“I was looking for you.”

That’s when Kevin backs out of the lot before I can get another word in. He drives with expertise, bypassing several other cars and onto the road. My heart starts screaming at me to jump out of his car right the fuck now! But I’m not listening. Instead, I buckle my belt and start throwing questions at him.

“Kevin, tell me the truth: do you know what happened to Hyeri that night?”

He’s silent, but presses harder on the gas. I clench my fists to stop myself from vomiting out of fear. I might die today, but not before finding out the truth.

“Kevin! I know you’re hiding something!”

He shakes his head and drives even faster. The road we’re on is empty, which makes it infinitely easier for him to drive carelessly. All around us is farmland with cows and horses and chickens that Hyeryung and I loved to go see on the weekends when we had nothing else to do but volunteer to help out her aging grandparents.

“Kevin!”

The man next to me presses down tightly on the gas, so hard that no turn of the break could have stopped the car from hitting the tree I never even noticed we were hurtling towards.

. . . ❤ . . .

The police officers arrested Kevin ten minutes after he woke up at the hospital. His girlfriend had been arrested several days before while I was still asleep. I didn’t undergo any massive operation after the accident, but I did need a few stitches at the crown of my head which the doctors told me would heal quickly enough.

I’m sitting in my living room on the phone with Daniel.

He isn’t saying anything. Typical. He never talks when I need him to.

“Dani,” I sigh, clutching the phone tighter against my ear. My mother is holding Jinnie in her arms on the other side of the room, watching me talk to my older brother. Or at least, attempting to. “Everything is already out in the open now. You can come home.”

“I…” I hear a sniffle. He cries like our mother does. “I can’t. YN, I… I’m not—”

“Not what?” I’m raising my voice at him for the first time and it feels exhilarating. I’ve gone all my life letting Daniel do what he wants without any of my input because I was taught to believe I was younger and therefore, less important in his decisions. But not anymore. Not after what we know now. “You’re not innocent? That you did kill the girlfriend you were in love with?”

“Am,” he corrects me in a small voice. “I still—I love her, YN. I never stopped.”

I wipe at the tear escaping my right eye. “Then come home, you jerk. Let’s go… let’s go see her. I know she misses you the most.” This time, I cry with my brother when his broken-hearted sobs pour through the line.

. . . ❤ . . .

Taehyung is sitting on my porch steps when I walk outside. It’s Hyeryung’s birthday and I planned on driving to her favourite coffee shop tonight to celebrate and order a low fat latte in her memory. Daniel planned on visiting her grave, but I don’t think I have the courage to do that just yet, and I don’t know why.

The brown haired boy looks up as the door shuts behind me. Neither of us says anything to the other until I take a seat beside him, far enough away so that I don’t make him uncomfortable. He has something in his hand—a photograph—and he hands it to me before I can ask what it is.

“I found it in Hyeri’s room,” he tells me. It’s identical to the photograph I kept inside my phone case. “I’m sorry that I… I’m sorry, YN.”

“It’s okay.”

He nods and looks out at the neighbourhood. It’s empty. The reporters stopped coming by a few days ago after Daniel promised to give one of them an exclusive interview. Now they’re all piggy-backing off that one twenty-minute segment on the local news channel.

“They kicked you out, didn’t they?” Taehyung suddenly asks. “At the funeral… my friends… they, um… they made you leave.”

“Yes.”

My voice is so quiet that I wonder if he even heard me answer him.

“Do you want to… can I take you to see her?”

“What?”

He tries to smile. I know it still hurts him to do it. “Hyeri wasn’t just my sister, she was also yours. I don’t know why I let myself forget that.” He exhales through his nose. “I see her everywhere even though she’s not here anymore.”

“I do, too.”

He wipes at his tears, and chuckles. “I wanted to hate you forever,” he admits. “I had a plan for it. I would hate you until my last dying breath.”

“And… now?”

“I don’t know.”

Why does that hurt more than a ‘yes?’

Taehyung does end up taking me to Hyeryung’s grave. He stands next to me as I place her favourite purple tulips on the ground next to her name. Under my breath, I whisper a prayer that I hope she hears.

I’m sorry it took me so long to come and see you, Hyeri. I love you to the moon and back.

He tries to buy me food after, but I deny him. So we sit in his car, in the parking lot of a random Burger King, staring out opposite windows in the hope that one of us will shatter the silence.

“I still hate you a little bit.” I look at him. This isn’t how I expected him to start talking. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel where he grips it. “You knew they were together and you never told me.” A long sigh. “But I guess you have your reasons.”

“Hyeri, you never hide anything from Tae. So why are you hiding this?”

My best friend sighs, the same way her brother does when he’s frustrated and doesn’t want to answer a question. “Tae doesn’t want me to date, much less someone even older than he is.”

“Yeah, but this is Daniel we’re talking about. Tae knows him.”

“Tae knows a lot of people. If I used this argument, he would go, ‘What? Are you going to date everyone I know then?’ He’s so stupid like that.”

I bite my lip. “I don’t like hiding things from him…”

“That’s because you have a crush on him so it’s distorting your rational thinking.”

“Hey!”

“Tell me I’m lying, YN. I’ll wait.”

Hyeryung giggles as I punch her arm. And after that, I promised myself I’ll never share the news of her relationship with anyone she doesn’t want knowing. Even back then, I knew all Hyeryung was doing was protecting her budding relationship with a boy who she was head over heels for.

“They were in love,” I murmur, quiet as a bee. “I’ve never seen two people more in love than they were with each other.”

Taehyung’s lips flatten as he presses them together. “I think I would have liked to see that.”

“I’m sorry, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry, too. I did a lot to hurt you… didn’t I?”

“N-No...”

“YN...” his voice is even quieter than mine as my name slips past his bitten lips. “Can you look at me?”

And so I do, and I want to regret it—I want to regret looking into his beautiful brown eyes pouring into mine—but I don’t. He inches closer to me and takes my face into his warm hands. They’re big enough to encase my much smaller face, and then pull me closer.

His eyes land on my lips. I know what he’s going to do and I have to stop him before he does.

“T-Tae…” I whisper, voice timid and broken and not the least bit convincing. “Please, d-don’t. You’ll regret it…” But as my voice trails off, his eyes simmer with an unfamiliar desire.

He gazes at my lips again. They are full of hunger this time, mixing easily with the pain he pushes past in order to hold me close. “I would never regret anything with you,” he whispers just as his head curves down and our lips meet.

For a second, I don’t think about anything but his kiss. His sweet, warm kiss which I have craved in all my dreams and awakened hours. His mind-numbing kiss which touches my soul as softly as his hands trail the length of my cheeks and my neck.

I let myself experience the kiss for what it is for all the seconds he kisses me. I don’t count them, but I know it could not have been a minute he kissed me for because when we come up for air, I feel like no time has passed by at all.

And I want him to kiss me again.

“I-I’m sorry,” I whimper, not knowing exactly what I’m apologizing for this time around. “You’re confused, right? I’m confusing you—”

Taehyung kisses me again. Harder and fiercer and stronger than the first time. This time, he grabs my face with eagerness and crushes his lips to mine with a hunger akin to a starving animal and I can do nothing but kiss him back with the same intensity.

“All my life, I’ve wanted to kiss you the way I did just now,” he breathes while still holding me. “Every birthday, every celebration, every soccer match I ever won or lost—I wanted to kiss you at the beginning and the end of them.” Another kiss, then two smaller pecks. “Maybe Hyeri was scared of telling me about her and Daniel, but I was terrified of telling her about my feelings for you.”

A tear drips down my cheek, and he catches it. “She knew.”

“God,” he groans, dropping his forehead on mine. “I’ll bet she’s watching us from up there now, and making jokes.”

“The worst jokes.”

We kiss again. Then one more time. Every kiss hurts a little bit less than the one before it.

“Tae…” I whisper as the sun begins to set outside our windows. I don’t look at him as I speak. I don’t want him to see my eyes when I say my next few words. “I’m always going to be a reminder of what you lost,” I tell him as my heart twists and burns. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life feeling hurt because of me.”

His reply is instantaneous.

“And what about you?” He asks, almost as quiet as I am. “Am I not a reminder?” He slips his hand through mine and coaxes me to look at him. “You lost someone you love, too, YN, and I will always be a reminder of that.” He tries to smile. “But I think… if Hyeryung was here with us right now, she would tell me to go for it.”

“Go for it?”

“To tell you that I love you,” he breathes, eyes full of new tears. “I love you, YN. And I know it’s not right of me to tell you this after all the hurt I’ve put you through for a crime that was never yours, but… here I am, telling you anyway.”

I burst into sobs. “I-I’m s-so sor-ry.”

Taehyung leans over the console and pulls me onto his lap, whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay,” and then, “I’ve never fought for anything in my life, YN, but I’m going to fight for you now. I love you, and that’s all I know.”

I hide my face in his neck as another storm of tears blows through me. I think of Hyeryung—my best friend, my sister—and her tragedy. Of the love she fought for with my brother every day and the love she died protecting. I think about my brother—the man I always looked up to—and how he will spend the rest of his life mourning his love. I think about our broken families and this town which lost someone who lit up every street and every corner she ever walked on to.

Mrs. Nguyen once told me that grief is something we carry with us all our lives. Something we can never really shake off completely. Every person in the world grieves. It is a part of human nature to love and to lose.

It’s Hyeryung’s birthday today and I don’t know how to celebrate it. But I think about how she lived and how she existed and how every square inch of her life was love. Love for herself, love for her family, love for her friends, love for strangers, and love for the man she never looked away from.

And so, in her memory, I kiss the words, “I love you,” on Taehyung’s lips and follow in her footsteps.

. . . ❤ . . .

“Tae…”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

I gulp down my fear. I can still taste the orange Fanta I had with dinner tonight at the Kims’ house. “Do you only like me because I’m Hyeri’s friend?”

“What?”

I shy away into my sleeping bag. I’m afraid he’ll see how I truly feel about him if he glances over. “I’m scared that you only spend time with me because Hyeri is my friend.”

“I’m your friend, too, YN.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And do you… like me?”

“I do,” he whispers, voice sweet and incandescent after midnight. “I like you a lot. I’ll probably like you forever.”

I’m really blushing this time. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m going to like you forever, too.”

#IM HELLA EMOTIONAL FROM THIS PLS #i'm still so fcked up bout that last scene/flashback #A TRUE TEARJERKER THIS FIC IS !!!#god i love this y/n so much she's an angel🥺#and tae too omg he aint deserve none of the pain that whole year brought him :(#and my heart BREAKS for hyeri and the way her life ended :((((#was such a beautiful soul #whole story was just a MASTERPIECE #1000/10 #me: 'IM SPEECHLESS-'#also me: *writes a whole novel on how much i loved everything bout this fic*#😭😭#all time favs #and once again thank u sooo much for the dedication mention !! 🥺🥺

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calltomuster · 4 years ago

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Star Wars Fic Recs Take 5

[first fic rec list] [second fic rec list] [third fic rec list] [fourth fic rec list]

Hope you're having a lovely day, friends! Here, take some more fic recs to make it even better!

Infinite Sadness (what does your heart tell you?) by @the-last-kenobi (gen, one-shot, 12.5k words) This fic definitely lives up to its title, not just in what happens to Obi-Wan, but in the sheer, pervasive sadness and desperation and subtle despair that plagues him as he lives life after life over and over again, trying to make things better each time. But it's not a flashy despair, it's muted and ongoing and never over-the-top, and well, it's infinite sadness. I definitely think this fic is slept on, it's absolutely amazing and I highly encourage you to check it out.

How Qui-Gon Accidentally Adopted a Baby by @the-last-kenobi (gen, WIP, 18/? chapters, 26.6k words) Oh, did the first fic on this list make you sad? I have the perfect remedy: another fic by @the-last-kenobi! To say that this fic brings me immense joy is an understatement. This fic makes me smile when nothing else will. You get the premise from the title, and I'll admit it may look a little crack-fic-y based on that, but the sheer cuteness of this fic and the quality of the prose elevates it beyond anything else. I'm not even kidding, this fic makes me want to have kids, that's how adorable baby Obi-Wan is in this.

The When Duty Is Done series by thosenearandfarwars (Obi-Wan/Cody, incomplete, 14/? parts, 90k words) I recommended the first story in this series way back in my third fic rec list, and it's only gotten better since then. I really like this series because it imagines -- well, I don't want to just say an ideal post-ROTS universe, because that implies that things are just magically all better, but I think it's a realistic ideal post-ROTS universe. The Jedi Order reforms itself, the clones get reparations and the ability to govern themselves, Anakin doesn't join Palpatine, etc. Through it all is an absolutely wonderful story about two people and their love for each other. It's just lovely.

Fire to ash, present to past (who knows for tomorrow?) by blueberrywizard (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 11.6k words) One day, Qui-Gon's apprentice completely changes. Or at least, that's how it seems to Qui-Gon, who has no idea that his Padawan is actually now a much older version trapped in this young body. This fic is told from many different points of view and I really like the prose. Definitely one that sticks with you.

|nothing quite like this| by littlekaracan (gen, one-shot, 6.6k words) Don't read this unless you want to feel like your heart has been ripped to pieces. This fic is a piece of experimental fiction, framed as a class reading for Jedi students in the future who are learning about the Purge. It's just devastating, truly devastating. Even though it features no characters we'd be familiar with, you just get so drawn into the world of this Purge survivor, and hearing their experiences is brutal.

In The Afterman, Solitude by kanerallels (gen, one-shot, 2.2k words, Obi-Wan & Quinlan) Obi-Wan is in a cantina on Tatooine after ROTS and runs into Quinlan Vos. What follows reminds him that he's not alone in the galaxy, not like he thought he was. I really like the progression of this fic, how real it seems to the characters. Obi-Wan doesn't just immediately blurt out what happened, and Quinlan is much more subtle than he usually is in fic. I really enjoyed this one.

Ghost Company by existentialAF (Obi-Wan/Cody, one-shot, 2.2k words) Cody's chip gets removed and he makes it his mission to find Obi-Wan and help him in the way he couldn't when Order 66 went down. A fascinating and touching AU of what could have happened post-ROTS if things had gone a little differently. I'd absolutely love to see more in this 'verse but it is a one-shot so I'll be content with what we're given!

The Morning Star series by Kurenaino (4 parts, 1.7 million words, incomplete) I first read this series back in November of 2020 and it has lived in my head rent free ever since then. I'm not kidding, I have to limit myself to only rereading this every couple of months so that it doesn't become too much of a good thing -- and make no mistake, I do reread it every few months, all 1.7 million words of it. To make what is clearly a very long story short, this series charts Obi-Wan's fall to the Dark side post-Naboo and follows him throughout the entire Star Wars saga (TPM, AOTC, Clone Wars, ROTS, Rebels, etc.) I feel like that description doesn't do it justice, though. The sheer breadth of this series takes my breath away. It feels expansive in a way that no fic I've ever read before has, oscillating from large-scale politics to heart-pounding action to sweet and tender love, both romantic and familial. (Oh, and this might be obvious from the whole "Sith Obi-Wan" thing, but just a warning that in these stories, Obi-Wan does some absolutely despicable things, just because he can. Murder, rape, mind control, etc, so take care.) But though he's Sith, he's still got such a heart in him, just like the Obi-Wan we know and love, and you can't help but feel for him at times. And this might not be as much a selling point for you as it was for me, but this series has some absolutely fantastic Thrawn content. He's going toe-to-toe with Obi-Wan and it's glorious, a true match. I'm in the middle of my latest reread of this series, and truly it just makes me so happy. I never see anyone talking about this series and I'm sad it doesn't get the attention it deserves. It really only gets better and better the further into the series you get. Cannot recommend enough!!

There is no Ignorance, there is Knowledge by @sirikenobi12 (gen, one-shot, 4.1k words) A wonderful installment for Jedi June! This fic follows Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, and then Obi-Wan and Anakin and Ahsoka, as they teach and learn lessons on what knowledge means to them. It was an unexpected tearjerker for me, there's one scene in particular that makes me tremble just thinking about it. I just love the way each relationship is portrayed here, and the care that is put into every word. Amazing!

Keeper of the Force by @pandora15 (gen, WIP, 19/20 chapters, 84.4k words) I can't believe I haven't put this on a rec list before, but since there's only the epilogue left, now is the perfect time. This fic starts out small-scale Obi-Wan whump (not saying that in a derogatory way, that's my exact favorite thing) and grows in size as it goes to eventually become a ROTS AU that is oh so good. It's touching, and inspiring, and lovely, and every time a new chapter posts I drop everything to read it. Can't believe the end of this ride is almost upon us!!

If you like any of these fics, please consider reblogging so they can get more exposure! And if you noticed I missed someone’s Tumblr account, or linked the wrong one, please let me know!

#i need to start writing these as i read the fics and not all in one sitting because my brain gets absolutely fried every time lol #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #anakin skywalker #commander cody #quinlan vos #jedi order #ahsoka tano #satine kryze

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tomionefinds · 3 years ago

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Can you recommend any tearjerker tomione fics? Maybe fics with scenes of like breakups, cheating, betrayal, rejection, major character death, etc.? I’m in the mood for some angst and heartbreak 💔

Hi Anon!

Here are a few that made us tear up. –Elizabeth

Bound by sharkdiver1980

E | Complete | 57k

After a freak accident occurs while attempting to destroy one of Voldemort’s horcruxes that sends Hermione back in time to the year 1947, she finds herself forcefully subjected to a new law put in place by the ministry to counteract the damage to the wizarding population done by Grindelwald. It was no wonder she had never heard of Proclamation no.1682, otherwise known as “The Marriage Law”, since it had obviously been repealed almost as quickly as it was instated. The problem was, she had already been assigned a husband.

(Note: Do not let the crack tag fool you, I still haven’t recovered from this one –E)

A Summer Storm, Ephemeral by alpha_exodus

M | Complete | 7k

In the middle of summer 1943, Tom meets a girl.

The Diary by LittleMulattoKitten, weestarmeggie

M | WIP | 76k

Hermione was suspicious when she found an old journal amongst her things. Tom was intrigued the night someone else's handwriting appeared in his diary. Lord Riddle watches his past unfold from Hermione's side of the timeline to make sure history repeats itself without Albus's interference.

All the Wrong Choices by QueenOfTheDreamers

M | Complete | 165k

Hermione Granger is kidnapped by Severus Snape and taken to Lord Voldemort, who behaves in a bizarrely familiar manner with Hermione. When she's rocketed back in time by Voldemort, she realises just why he knew her so well in the 1990s - it was because he'd known her very well indeed, as Tom Marvolo Riddle, in an entirely different time. She had to go back because she'd been there. But will she stay?

Tied for Last by Speechwriter

M | Complete | 244k

Hermione is killed by Voldemort, and is now dead. Well, sort of. Turns out that death is a little more complex than she knew. Ignores epilogue and last 50ish pages of DH.

Carpe Diem by Bertie Bott

M | Complete | 119k

The future is explained through the past and everything happens for a reason. Hermione becomes an active part of the history she studies so diligently in class. A dream come true, right? Nothing is as it seems...

Take My Heart Away by Hatsutu

T | Complete | 42k

Hermione goes back in time with one mission: to kill Tom Riddle before he comes to power. How hard can it be? Impossible, she realizes, as a love between them grows stronger than anything she’s ever known. Now Hermione has a choice to make.

#angst #tomione #tragedy #drama #answered

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bustyasianbeautiespod · 2 years ago

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Episode 39 Transcript: Sera Gamble's Andreaverse

[intro guitar music]

G: Hello, my name is Grey.

C: And my name is Crystal.

G: And this is Busty Asian Beauties, a Supernatural commentary podcast where I, someone who has seen this show several times…

C: And I, someone who only knows the show through social media, discuss every single episode of Supernatural from start to finish. Also, we're both Asian.

G: Both Asian!

So for this episode, we will be discussing Season 2, Episode 17: “Heart,” written by Sera Gamble and directed by Kim Manners.

C: I can't believe Kim Manners did this to my eyeballs. [G laughs]

G: It's not that bad. Like, there are some shots and, like, some cuts that are genuinely hilarious.

C: [laughing] There is one scene that is genuinely awful to watch.

G: It's incredibly funny, like, this episode. I know that most people will probably remember "Heart" as a gut-wrenching, like, tearjerker episode or whatever-

C: Yes.

G: [laughing] But I will remember this episode as the most hilarious in Supernatural thus far. [C laughing] It is so funny.

C: I just can't believe that this happened two episodes after "Tall Tales"-

G: I know.

C: - where John Shiban tried to put his whole jshussy into being funny [G laughs], and like, it cannot come anywhere close to "Heart."

G: [laughing] Sera Gamble out jussied him. Literally. It's so funny. And, I mean, we'll get into it when we get into it, but multiple times in this episode, I had to stop and pause and like, start pacing around the house laughing maniacally. Like [laughs], it's that funny. So yeah. I thoroughly enjoyed watching this episode, just for the fun factor.

C: Yeah, I think it took me one and a half hours to watch this 40-minute episode because I had to keep pausing and screaming.

G: So true. Okay, so before going in: Crystal, what did you know about this episode prior?

C: Okay, so this was- this whole episode generally was in "bad moon rising," which is the fic that's the season 1 and 2 Supernatural rewrite with Arab Sam and Dean that I haven't mentioned it a while. So yeah, I knew that generally, like, it was gonna be about Madison and that she was a werewolf, but they wouldn't know for a while, and that she killed, like, her boss who sexually harassed her and her shitty abusive boyfriend while she was a werewolf. And then eventually, after they find out and she goes, like, "Oh, like, I don't want to hurt people anymore, so you can just kill me, even though basements exist and you just lock me in there," though that's not what she does in "bad moon rising," but I do know that's what happens in this episode. And also, I know about the scene where Sam and Dean do rock paper scissors [G laughs] to like, decide who gets to stay behind with her, and also about the scene where she's folding lingerie in front of Sam-

G: God.

C: - and Sam looks away, like a lesbian seeing Victoria's Secret in the mall. [G laughs] And I think- oh, yeah, and I specifically know about the scene where she like, smirks while she's folding her underwear, because that's the end of the Sam "Slumber Party" AMV.

G: So true.

C: Yeah, which is very, very important to Supernatural history.

G: They literally had a slumber party this episode.

C: Yep.

G: Okay. So to begin, we start with, again, like, per usual with episodes where there's no like, backstory to dive into, we start with no- what's that?- "Road so Far," which I thought was interesting. Every single time there's no "Road so Far," I'm like, "That's interesting!" And it has happened so many times, and I still can't move on. [laughs]

C: I'm glad that there wasn't a "Road so Far," because I think if there was, it would just be all the scenes of Sam going like, "I'm a monster! And you have to kill me!" [G laughing] and they already make it so clear that they're trying to parallel Sam in this episode that having a "Road so Far" about it, like, I would be like, so sick and done with this episode like, 10 minutes in.

G: No, literally. So we start in California. Does is say where in California?

C: San Francisco.

G: San Francisco. Oh, yeah, 'cause we see a lot of the San Francisco bridge thing a lot this episode. Right. They really hammer it home.

C: Right. Bay Area sure can have bay. [G laughs]

G: But we start with Madison, who is this woman, and her friends having fun and having drinks. And it's so funny because the entire scene where she's talking to her friends, they're not talking at all, they're just laughing. [C laughs]

C: Yeah.

G: Literally, that's just how women talk. [both laughing]

C: That's just how women talk.

G: This is how Supernatural thinks women talk, they just go "[laughter]."

C: Yeah, women don't have thoughts, they don't have sentences, they just laugh.

G: Literally. Supernatural thinks women only exist to be talked to by men and laugh within themselves.

C: Yeah. Ugh, it's such a tease to open in San Francisco, California with Madison at a bar with other women and then not even have her be gay. You know?

G: Is- why? Is San Francisco a gay thing?

C: Yeah, San Francisco's a very gay city. Haven't you read those posts-

G: Oh. Are you from there? [laughs]

C: No. [laughs] I mean, haven't you read those posts that are like, "Sam applied to Stanford because he knew that California was the only place that he could be gay"?

G: In the bar, a man goes up to her, and it's her boss, Nate, and he's saying, like, "Hey, we need to go back to the office because there's some papers that we need to be done by midnight," but he's obviously tipsy, and, you know, he's obviously flirting her up. And Madison is like, not having any of his shit. So at some point, she says, like, "Yeah, this is not working," and then he's like, "Well, I'm a bit tipsy, so can you drive me?" and she's like, "I'll call a cab." You know, she's shutting him down. And she laughs with her friends that he's really like that when he gets a little bit drunk. He's a- Madison is surrounded by terrible guys this episode, [laughs] and I am counting Sam Winchester.

C: Sam Winchester! My god.

G: Yeah. [laughs]

C: He's such a creep this episode.

G: He's literally such a creep!

C: And, like, Sera Gamble tries to counteract this by making Dean, like, twice the creep he usually is so that Sam looks good in comparison, but like, my god. [laughs] Get all of these men out of here.

G: Eventually, Madison goes back to her drink when she notices a guy in the corner who's staring at her. And the guy looks exactly like he's doing a Sam Winchester cosplay. [both laughing] This guy has like, shoulder-length hair, he's wearing flannel under a jacket, you know, shit like that. He literally looks like a Sam Winchester cosplayer.

C: Yeah, no. I thought what he looks like was they just very clearly wanted you think he was a werewolf. Because, like, he looks like- like, I feel like all human werewolves look like they do like, nature hikes in mud, you know, like, that's the vibe that he has?

G: Not my resident blorbo werewolf Shi-Long Lang! [C laughs] He is wearing a leather jacket, babygirl! He's l- [laughs] I'm not gonna talk about him this episode. You know what ? We should set up basic for rules for this episode.

C: Okay, we have a pact this episode. I won't talk about omegaverse, even when Dean says "hot breeding action"...

G: And I will not talk about Ace Attorney that features a character who fancies himself like, a [both] wolf furry, Shi-Long Lang. I will not talk about any of those things.

Okay. [laughs] We're good.

So the guy freaks her out, so she goes to her car and drives away, and like, spends the night at home or something.

C: It's so weird that she- like, there's an extended shot of her like, walking around the parking lot alone and scared, and like, wouldn't you ask your friend to go with you?

G: Yeah, but like, if she's- like, she's scared that the guy is possessive, right, so if she asks like, a friend to go along with her, maybe she's worried that he's gonna go batshit over that as well? Like, this guy is not-

C: He seems to only be possessive over men in her life, though.

G: Yeah. Well, my wondering was like, are the outsides of bars really this empty?

C: Yeah, this was like, the world's largest parking lot for like, a bar that was like, 10 seats.

G: [laughs] No, for real.

Anyway, the next morning, she goes to her office. She works at like, a very fancy law firm, I think. And she goes to get coffee when she notices something, and she opens the door to Nate, her boss's office, and he is bloody and ripped apart.

C: Hell, yeah, baby.

G: The visuals, like, the special effects- by special effects, I mean practical effects on like, the bodies that get mauled this episode- are actually super good.

C: Mm-hm.

G: Like, they look realistic, they look like, gory, and they look nice. Nice, I mean like- you know what I mean. But yeah, pretty neat. This is like, you know, like, while watching this episode- because this one is directed by Kim Manners, right? So it is very quintessential early SPN, the look, and I was like, "Aw, I miss this look! Whatever happened to Supernatural after season five or whenever the shifts change?" I like season- I think honestly, like, season two is the last season that looks like this. Like, season three is a little bit wonky with the lighting, and in season four, they change cameras, so the look changed. So let's savor season two while we can, 'cause this is, I feel, the last season where it looks like this.

C: Okay, wait, we forgot to mention that when she sees like, her creepy ex across the bar, there's like, this zoom in on her face, and it's the funniest shit ever. Do you remember this?

G: I did not notice. I did not notice.

C: Okay, 'cause as soon as that happened, I was like, "Who directed this episode?"

G: Robert. Robert, are you here? Robert? [laughs]

C: But, no, it was Kim Manners.

G: Robert has infiltrated Kim Manners's artistic vision.

C: Yeah, he really has.

C: So we cut to a morgue where Sam is looking at Nate's body. He's like, vertical in a compartment or something? Or-

G: No, it's just the camera angle.

C: It's just the camera angle. So the mortician pulls him out, and he's got scratches all over that have been stitched up, and Sam asks the employee to tell him off the record who she thinks caused all this. And she says, "if I didn't know better, I'd say the guy was attacked by a wolf. But, you know, that's not possible because the only wolves around here are in zoos." And then Sam asks, like, "Oh, also, was this guy's heart missing?" And the mortician's like, "Yeah, how'd you know that?" And he's like, "Lucky guess." So now we're in the motel room, and- ugh. Dean's there. [G laughing] And seeing him there was like, a slap to the face. I forgot that he was supposed to be in this episode, I hated seeing his face in this episode, etc.

G: I recognize this scene because he's playing with h- not playing. He's cleaning his weapons, right? And this is a scene- there's a scene in like, an outtake where Jared was like, keeps on making mistakes, and he's like, "Sorry, sorry, sorry," and then Jared says, like, "This is difficult, you know?" And then Jensen is like, "Try disassembling and then assembling a gun and tell me it's difficult to do what you're doing," [laughs] which I thought was extremely funny. Anyway, that's it.

C: Right, what's the- "Jared's not saying his line right." What is it? [G laughs]

G: That's Misha Collins. That's Misha Collins.

C: Yeah, I know.

G: "Jared's not saying his lines right." Literally, so true. Misha deserves a GLAAD award [C laughs] for saying that in an outtake.

C: Oh, god. So Dean's like, really excited about this case, and he's asking about it, and he says, like, "Is this lawyer guy the first heart-free corpse in town?" And Sam says, "It was the first man. Over the past year, several women who were sex workers went missing, and their heartless bodies washed up later in the Bay. And they all worked near Hunter's Point."

Okay, so Sam and Dean didn't show up until a lawyer guy showed up? Like, they were collecting their news stories and they were like, "Eh, who cares?" [laughs] I don't know- what is the situation?

G: No, I think, maybe they just encountered like, an article that was like, "This is a worrying turn of events, and several women have gone missing, just like this one all throughout this year," and they were like, "Oh, let's see." Because, you know, usually, like, you don't connect the dots anyway until the police do connect the dots.

C: That's true.

G: Like, in terms of like, news about crime.

C: Yeah. Eh, I guess it makes sense. A lot of serial killers go after sex workers and then no one gives a shit.

G: Yeah.

C: Yeah. So most of these murders happened during the week leading up to the full moon, which includes this week. And Dean's like, "Awesome!" And Sam is like, "Bro, why are you like, being such a nerd about this?" And Dean says he's really excited because werewolves are a human by day, and a "freak animal killing machine by moonlight," and that makes them badass. Which- this doesn't really carry through the episode at all, right? Dean's excitement about werewolves?

G: Hm. I don't think so.

C: Yeah.

G: I don't think so. But also, I don't think it's out of character or anything like that. Like, I think it would make sense for Dean to be excited over a werewolf, or you know, like-

C: Or a werepire.

G: A werepire, as he would like to say. Like, he seems like, the type of guy to be excited over, you know, shit like this. So it makes sense.

Is Dean a furry? [both laugh] Sorry, I promised to not talk about furries this episode.

C: And you promised not to talk about Dean x Shi-Long Lang? [G laughs]

G: Exactly.

C: Yeah.: I guess- yeah, okay, I don't know what my point here was, but it's just interesting that Dean thinks werewolves are cool and badass, but as soon as he encounters one, he's just like, "You're evil and I need to kill you, and I don't even think it's cool that you scratch walls up."

G: No, I think him being like, "You're evil, I need to kill you" is the reason why he's excited, you know?

C: Yeah.

G: Like, "I'm killing something that's fierce and evil," and that's why he's so into it.

C: Yeah. Well, more importantly, after this, Sam says mockingly, "Okay, Sparky. And you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland!" [laughs]

G: [laughing] I hope they went to Disneyland like, after Sam kills Madison.

C: [laughing] What? Sam sits in the teacup ride, like, going in circles and crying? And all the children around him are uncomfortable about the situation, and, like, parents are like, leading them away?

G: Literally. Like, Sam needs to go to Star Wars land or whatever it's called [C laughs], and then like, just start crying in the middle of like, the Falcon ride. I have no idea about anything about Star Wars.

C: Sam needs to eat a Mickey Mouse popsicle.

G: Literally, he needs to eat the Dole whip and fucking sob over it. [C laughing]

C: Yeah, he needs to- like, Dean takes him to the Buzz Lightyear ride where, like, you shoot lasers at targets [G laughing], and it brings up bad memories for Sam, and he just starts screaming and sobbing.

G: [laughing] Noo! So true.

C: Yeah.

So yeah, and then Dean says, like, "Luckily, like, we have silver bullets and we can use them to kill werewolves." And Sam says, "Okay, well next, let's go talk to Madison, the girl who found the body."

G: Okay. So they go to talk to Madison. She's in her apartment, she's saying, like, "Oh, but I already told the police what's up," and Sam and Dean show up looking the least like police officers, like detectives, in their fucking life. They're literally just- they didn't even bother to dress up for this occasion. They literally just went with their usual clothes. They're like, "No, no, no, we just need to clarify a few things<" and they start talking over the case, blah blah blah. These scene, we find out that Madison has a neighbor named Glen who is very nice to her, and Sam and Dean probably think he's trying to hit her up. He's very timid. He has a very nice beard. Literally, his beard is fucking beautiful.

C: Also, he's wearing like, this church T-shirt. Red flag. [G laughs]

G: But his beard is so beautiful! That's all I noticed. That's literally all I noticed. Yeah, and then anyway, Glen goes out, and Madison starts talking about how Nate is like, an okay guy, he just happens to hit on her a lot. And she reveals that she knows of one enemy that Nate has, Madison's ex. Kurt is her ex and he is a bit of a stalker. Like, he showed up in her office once and then got mad at Nate for like, trying to hit on her or something and tried to beat him up, etc etc. At some point, she says, "I'm lucky I kept my job," which is such a sad thing to say. Like, it's not her fault that she has a very abusive and physically violent ex. But Sam and Dean start suspecting that Kurt is the vampire, so they ask for a name, they ask for an address, and they head out.

C: Also, this whole time Dean is, as the transcripts say, "practically salivating" over Madison. [G groans] Yeah, like, he- when Madison's like, "Oh, this Nate guy would hit on anyone, like, you know the type," and then we cut to like, Dean, like, leering at her and Sam goes like, "Yeah, I do know the type."

G: Yeah. They-

C: Yeah. They set Dean up to be like, a giant mega-creep towards her this episode so that you think that Sam’s okay.

G: The thing is, they do this thing where Dean is like, a fuckboy, right?

C: Mm-hm.

G: And Sam is like, a sad boy [C laughs]. That's the thing that they're setting up with Sam and Dean this episode. And both are equally like, so fucking annoying to watch, but like, in an extremely funny way and super entertaining in a like, "Let's laugh at these guys, aren't they fucking losers?" way.

C: Yep.

G: They're literally fucking losers.

C: They're literally fucking losers.

G: Like, both these guys are such losers, Jesus. [C laughs]

C: Yeah. Remember that time you asked, like, "If Sam or Dean approached you at a bar, like, would it work on you?" [G laughs] Like, look at how fucking terrible they are right now. They're such losers. I don't understand how they've like, ever had sex. [laughs]

G: You know what? I stand my ground that episode. Was it that episode? But I said, like, a little bit in the past, right, that like, Dean is like, the kind of guy that I would rather go for than Sam. Because I would rather like, fuck around with a fuckboy than with a sad boy [C laughing]. Like, Sam is so fucking annoying. Like, at least Dean is straightforward with his intentions. Like, there's no doubt about what he's doing. And Sam is like, "You're interesting." [C laughing] Like, fuck off!

C: God, okay, the funniest- I guess we'll get to it, but when Sam’s like, "You're clearly smart, you have a lot of good books around your house." Like- [both laughing] I would've killed him. I literally would've shot him where he stood.

G: Literally.

C: He's literally the type of guy who, when a girl invites him over, he goes to inspect her fucking bookshelves to check that she's sapiosexual enough for him. [G laughs]

G: [laughing] He literally is.

Anyway, as Sam and Dean leaves, Madison hears, like, a scuffle outside, a dog barking. And, as she peeks out, she sees Kurt outside, and he's still being a creep and still stalking her. And then they do this thing, where she like, looks, and then she like, blinks, and he's gone. So like, you're like, "Ooh, mysterious... He may or may not be the werewolf... Probably he is..." blah blah blah.

I mean, everybody knows the twist to this episode, right? Like, Madison is the werewolf. So, spoiler.

C: Yeah, I think everyone knows.

G: Yeah, but they do a pretty good job of hiding that until the moment arrives.

Anyway, they go to Kurt's apartment. They pick the lock, and they start looking around, and they don't see anything in the fridge, which is where Sam presumes the guy would keep the heart. But Dean sees something in the balcony, which is like, a giant scratch down the concrete wall. And he's like, "Oh, look at this." And on the other side of the fucking wall, we see a police officer hear a bunch of noise, so he goes to inspect it, and he gets mauled by our werewolf.

C: Hell, yeah, baby.

G: Hell, yeah. [laughs] Madison did nothing wrong.

C: Yeah, no, she literally did not.

G: She killed her annoying boss, she killed a cop, she killed her stalker ex. Like, she's fine! Let her off the hook.

C: Literally, she's fine. I do wanna know the specifics of what happened here, though, right? Like, she turns- was she like, trying to go to Kurt's to kill him and then she saw a cop on the way, and she was like, "He's gonna stop me so let's just do that first."

G: Yeah, probably.

C: Good for her.

G: I think she's like, on her way to killing Kurt at this moment.

C: Yeah. Good for her.

G: Anyway, eventually, Sam and Dean hear the noise of the gunshot from the cop, and they go down and see that he is mauled to death. And they go call 911. And their belief that Kurt is the werewolf just intensifies.

C: Are Sam and Dean still wanted by the police and the FBI currently?

G: Yeah, perhaps. I mean, definitely, right?

C: Yeah, so- why did they- I guess they could have just done an anonymous call into 911 and then left?

G: I mean, can you still do anonymous tip calls at this point in time?

C: I don't know.

G: Because, like, at that time, I assume, like, if you call from a payphone, they'll just trace back the location, but not the person, right?

C: Oh, that's true, yeah, so they probably called from a payphone.

G: But if it's like, a cell phone situation, I think you're easily traceable.

C: Mm-hm.

G: Yeah.

C: Yeah.

G: [laughs] I actually think about these things a lot, because, you know it's terrifying how easily you can be traced back to your exact location at any given point.

C: Yeah.

G: Which is why [laughs] I generally don't have a phone, when I go out.

C: Oh, really?

G: Which is a weird thing to say. Yeah, I just bring my iPad and my iPad doesn't have a SIM card.

C: Oh.

G: Yeah. I am an iPad baby, yeah.

C: How do you contact people? Like-

G: I don't. Like, my mom is very angry at me. Not very angry, but like, my mom gets frustrated at me because, like, she'll be like- I'll be like, "Okay, I'm going to the bookstore," and then I go out of the bookstore and I'm like, "I don't know where anyone is!" [laughing]

C: I mean, that's probably a good call. Like, you're making the right decision-

G: So true.

C: - but I'm a phone baby, so [G laughs] I can't.

C: They decide that they need to go check in on Madison because she might be in danger while Kurt's out here, killing people as a werewolf. And we see that when they knock on her door, Glen opens his door and is like, "Hey, what's up?" and he won't go away until they tell him that they need to talk police business in private. So yeah, he and his beautiful beard and his terrible church shirt are being creepy. [G laughs] Literally, they were like- Yeah, no, Madison's surrounded- how many creepy man does Madison have in her life? Five? Five, right? Nate, Kurt, Glen-

G: No, no, not five. Four. Four.

C: - Sam, Dean.

G: Ah, no, Sam and Dean. Yeah. So five.

C: Yeah. Right.

G: And just this episode, too.

C: Yeah. This entire episode is Madison's no good very bad day surrounded by creepy guys.

G: And death. [laughs] Let's not forget that she dies at the end of this episode.

C: Yeah, she dies at the end. I really think the point of all these creepy guys are just to make Sam look relatively better. [G groans and makes vomiting sounds]

G: I have much to say about Sam and his "You're interesting" [C screams] line later. Much to say.

C: Yeah, so they go and ask her about Kurt, and she says that "He was outside last night, like, staring at me." And Dean's like, "Hey, like, in case you're in danger, one of us should probably stay here with you in case he stops by." And she tells them where he works. He owns like, a body shop, so like, a car fix-y place.

G: Yeah. That's really threw me off. [C laughs] I did not understand what a body shop means, so I was like, "Wait. [laughs] This guy sells- what?" But yeah. He is a car mechanic, I'm assuming.

C: Yeah. So, Dean's sort of thing, I guess. And Sam- okay, so she goes off to write down the address of where he works, and while she's away, Sam tells Dean, like, “Okay, you should go find her and I'll stay here.” And Dean says, "Forget that. You go after the creepy ex, I'm gonna hang here with the hot chick." And Sam says, "Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?" [laughs]

G: You know what I thought when this happened? I was like, "Sam, the reason why Dean always get to hang out with the girls is when you hang out with the girls, you always fuck them!" [laughing]

C: Yeah. [laughs] Literally.

G: Literally, every time you have hung out with a girl this entire show, they have become a romantic interest for you. Like, things are not faring well in your department in terms of creep behavior. Like, you need to calm down.

C: Yeah. Right. Do we have- what?- Lori, Sarah.

G: Yeah, Lori, Sarah, and Madison, yeah.

C: Yeah, god.

G: It's funny, too, because they do the thing- they do it more naturally this episode, than in Sarah's episode and in Lori's episode, but usually, right like, when Sam is about to have a love interest they like, put him in the spotlight and have him do the interviews and shit instead of Dean, who usually does it, which I think is incredibly funny. They do a good job of not doing that this episode, but there's still little vibes going around.

C: Yeah, okay, so Dean says, "'Cause I'm older." Um- [sighs] I- this is such a fucking stupid conversation. Like, obviously they're talking about these women like they're commodity, and it's gross, but also, this is just stupid. [laughs] Yeah, so Sam looks at him, like, so offended, and he goes like, "No, screw that. We settle this the old-fashioned way." And he, like, puts their coffee down, and he raises his fist, and you think that they're gonna punch each other, which they should [G laughs], but no, they do rock paper scissors. And Sam wins 'cause he chooses rock and Dean chooses scissors. And Sam goes, like, with a mocking voice- because he's like, a little shit this episode and it is fun when that's directed at Dean - he goes like, "Dean, always with the scissors."

G: [laughing] And then they do it again. Dean says, like, "Best of two" or "Best of three" or something, and then they do rock paper scissors again Dean does scissors again! [C laughing] What a fucking loser. Literally, he was like, "I'm gonna reverse psychology this guy so hard."

C: [laughs] Yeah.

G: And Sam was like, "You know what? I'm gonna reverse reverse psychology, man!" [both laughing]

C: Yeah, it's very fun. I think- isn't there that like, rock paper scissors trick out there that's like, "Before you start, you should mock the other person, because when they start feeling defensive, they'll scissors."

G: They do the scissors? Yeah.

C: Yeah, it feels like more of an opponent-

G: Natural form of your hand.

C: Yeah.

G: Yeah.

C: Yeah, so I think that's sort of what Sam's strategy always is. And because Dean never unclenches, he just always throws scissors. [G laughs]

G: Exactly.

C: Yeah, so, yeah, Sam wins again, and he, like, pats Dean on the shoulders, like, "Bundle up out there, alright?"

G: He's cute.

C: Yeah, it's a cute scene. He is a funny little man.

G: If you ignore the fact that they're-

C: Yeah.

G: If you ignore the fact that they're playing rock paper scissors to figure out who gets to stay with the quote, "hot chick," like, [laughs] it's cute.

C: Yeah.

G: Yeah.

G: Anyway, Sam is now spending [C starts laughing] the day [starts laughing] in Madison's house. This is the beginning of the funniest scene in the entirety of Supernatural, literally, so fucking funny.

C: [laughing] I don't we can describe it properly. Like, you guys just need watch it, honestly.

G: Literally.

C: I will never recommend watching Supernatural except for this scene. [G laughs]

G: So, Sam is like, sitting on the- I assume like, a dining table, but like, it's very small. So he's just sitting at a chair in front of a table, right? And he keeps on eyeing Madison. He keeps on looking at her. And Madison notice this, and she's like, "You want to sit on the couch?" And he's like, "No, no, no, I'm good here." And then a little bit later [C laughing], Madison comes back with a pile of clothes that she dumps on the table, except all the clothes are her, like, underwear and stuff. And she starts lifting them up and unfolding them, and Sam is like, "Okay... I'm going to go sit on the couch." And like, we pan to Madison, and she's smiling, which I thought was like, "Good for you Madison."

C: Yeah.

G: Literally, good for you.

C: Yeah, like, you think that your shitty stalker ex is out there killing people and there's like, a hot cop nearby, and you're like, "You know what? I will throw my bras all over his head." [G laughs]

G: And I mean, she tried to give him an out. She was like, "You want to sit on the couch?" and he was like, "No, no, no." And she was like, "Okay, I'm gonna fold my underwear in front of you." Good for her. Good for her.

C: Yeah.

G: Anyway, Sam is sitting on the couch. After she folds her clothes, she goes to sit beside him, and they start watching TV. And the angle at which they shoot this is also so funny. [laughing] Like, I don't know how to describe it, but like, it adds to the humor of the situation, right?

C: Mm-hm.

G: So they're sitting down, and she's watching like, a soap opera, and Sam looks at her like, "Ugh."

C: Wait, do you want to mention the Dean phone call before they watch?

G: Oh. [laughs] I literally do not care about the plot of this episode.

C: No, it's not even a plot thing.

G: No, no. Oh, yeah, Dean like, calls and is like, "So what? You're sitting on the couch, all stiff?" And then- so what does "all stiff" mean in this situation? Is it like, a-

C: I think it's "like a stiff," and a stiff is a corpse, so he's just saying "You're being useless."

G: Oh, okay, okay. Yeah. And then Sam’s like, “Oh, did you find the guy?” And then Dean's like, “No, but I figured out where he might be. So... what's she wearing?” [C groans] And Sam’s like, “Goodbye, Dean. Fuck off.” Then he hangs up.

C: No, it's just so funny- like, with both Sarah and with Maddy, it's all like, Dean's like, making the sex jokes and pushing Sam towards it, and Sam is like, "No! [laughing] I would never betray the integrity of a case [G laughing] by fucking someone involved" And then he goes and falls and gets his dick stuck in them.

G: Jesus. Yeah, anyway, like I was saying earlier, they're sitting there watching TV, and Sam’s like, “Ugh. We're watching this?” like, with his eyes, and Madison is like, "You know I saw that. I get to watch my own show, because this is my fucking television, so shut the fuck up!" [C laughs] And then we cut outside, and then [laughs] we cut inside again, and the show has ended, and Sam’s like, “Wait, so you mean these two persons got married so that they could get the inheritance-" you know, he starts narrating the plot of the telenovela. And Madison is like, "What, you're hooked now?" And Sam’s like, "No, I wouldn't say I'm hooked."

C: Wait, most importantly... [laughs]

G: Oh! Oh my god. [C laughing] He says, "What a bitch!" [C screaming]

C: Oh my god, yeah. He- [screams] I mean- he's sitting- he's trying to get with this girl, and he's like, "I think the way to her heart is to call a fictional woman a bitch. With my whole chest."

G: Literally- literally the way he says it too. Like, "What a biitch." And like, Sam!

C: Sam!

G: Come on, Sammy.

C: Come on, Sam.

G: Come on, dude.

C: Okay, so we are pulling up [G laughing] the spreadsheet, obviously.

G: How many does he have?

C: This is his second in season 2.

G: Very little in comparison, I feel.

C: Yeah.

G: How about Dean? What's Dean up to?

C: Dean's at 10. [G laughs] But oh, we haven't given him any for this episode yet. I feel like- should we just give them one for his general demeanor towards Madison?

G: Yeah, sure. Sure, sure.

C: Yeah. Okay, so we're at 11.

G: Also, did we give him anything in "Tall Tales"?

C: Ah, shit, we were going to, right? Wait, which one is "Tall Tales"?

G: I've literally forgotten. You know what? Since we missed it, let's just leave it be. Dean, you're off the hook this one time. [C sighs]

C: Is he?

G: You don't want- you don't what? [laughs] Don't you record it with, like, alongside the episode, like, you check-?

C: I do, and I remember I said that I was gonna give him a point, but I don't see one here. Maybe I accidentally put it on 2.14 instead of 2.15? What was 2.14? "Born Under a Bad Sign"?

G: No fucking idea.

C: Was Dean misogynistic in "Born Under a Bad Sign?" I don't think so.

G: I don't even know what that episode's about.

C: I think I just accidentally-

G: No! We put that in there because of the way he treats Jo, and we were very defensive, and we were like, "Dean, fuck you for treating Jo like that." [laughs]

C: Okay, then, in that case, I am going to go back and add one to "Tall Tales."

G: Literally.

C: So now Dean's at 12. [G laughs] Which is a nice, clean number. Like, two times three times two is a nice number. Alright, so...

G: Sam- Madison is, you know, they're still sitting, they're still laughing, they're still talking. And Sam says, "You know what? Can I ask you a question? It's... personal." [both laugh] And then Madison says, like, "You've seen my entire underwear collection, so yeah, go ahead." And then Sam says, "Okay. You're very... smart [C screams], clearly. Your house is full of great books."

C: [laughing] I hope he dies.

G: "You're independent." [laughs] And then she says, like, "Yeah, what's your point?" And Sam says, "What were you doing with Kurt?" as in her ex. And then Madison says, like, "Well, it's not like he introduced himself to me as like, 'I like to punch people and I'm violent and all that shit and possessive.'" And Sam’s like, “Yeah, I guess we all make mistakes," and she says, "Yeah, mine's wanted by the police." Well, guess what, baby? [laughs] Sam is also wanted by the police. [C laughs]

C: So true.

G: And then she said, like, "You want to know why I stayed with him? I was too insecure to leave." And then she says, like, you know, things happened to her in the past, and it just so happened that one day, she got mugged. And she realized that like, "Oh, I can keep feeling sorry for myself or I can like, take control of my life." And so she did, and the first thing she did was leave her ex. And apparently, after that, everything, like, every other opportunity just opened up for her. And it's wonderful! She's having a wonderful time.

C: Yeah. I really like this idea that like, quote unquote "monsterhood" can be good. Because I'm sure part of it was like, just her feeling more confident and like, physically strong because, like, she's a werewolf. Yeah, so it was good to see the positive side of monsterhood, even if this episode doesn't like, further that at all.

G: Yeah, I like this scene [laughs]. No. I like the way Madison speaks about her life experience in this scene. Because like, in a real life conversation, this is how it would also go, you know. Like, you, wouldn't like, go in too deep. Like, when she said, like, she stayed with the guy because there were other things going on, like, she didn't get into it. And you can say that she didn't get into it because it's not relevant to the plot, but, like, in real life, you meet someone and you're telling them your life story, you don't get into all the details as well. Like, you just, you know, go into surface level, and if it gets deeper, then it gets deeper, and that's what's happening this conversation. And it feels natural, even though we find out later that it's exposition. So I like that.

C: Yeah.

G: Anyway. [laughs] Now to the parts that I don't like. Sam says, "You know what? You're- you're... unusual." [both laughing] And then she's like, "Unusual like..." and then she does the thing where it's like, the symbol for crazy. And Sam’s like, “No, I mean like, unusual like impressive.” And Madison’s, like, "Oh, you think so?" And, you know, they're flirting it up. And the thing about this scene is, while watching it, I was cringing and laughing and all that. But the reason why is because I have had similar conversations with men in my life, right?

C: Yeah.

G: Like, you meet a guy for the first time, and I feel like... okay. Not to generalize, right? But I haven't really met a lot of straight men in my life. Like, that's just not the, you know, circle I go around in. And when I do [laughs], it's always very interesting. Like, I'm always like, "What a weird experience this was!" Because I feel like straight men tend to do this thing where [laughs] they assume that a woman's life is like, empty of meaning. And then they have a conversation with a woman, and it's like, a meaningful conversation, and instead of thinking, "Oh, that must mean that women do have inner lives and are interesting and have like, meaningful experiences," they just think like, "Oh, this one woman specifically has an interesting life." And I feel like that's what Sam is doing here. Like-

C: Yeah, like, "God, you're not like other girls! You're such a manic pixie dream girl! Fuck me, now!"

G: Yeah, like, he's literally manic pixie dream girl-ifying this woman. [C laughs] [laughing] And like, it reminds me of this one time- [laughing] this is so incredibly funny!

I was talking to a guy at like, a music festival situation, right? And we're just having fun, we're having a conversation. And then he, like, does this little thing where he, like, asks me out a little bit? You know, like, he's like, entering the topic. And I was like, "No, no, no, no, this is not like that at all, like, I have a girlfriend, it's not like that." Okay. Here's what he said. He said, "Wow, you are so honest and straightforward and interesting. [C laughing] If all lesbians are like that, I wish all women were just lesbians." [C screaming] [both laughing]

Sam Winchester would say that. One hundred percent. [both laughing]

C: He absolutely would. Oh, god. Who do you think he says it to?

G: [laughing] "I wish all-" I don't know. But "I wish all women were lesbians" is the funniest thing anyone has ever said to me.

C: [laughing] Yeah. Only lesbians are honest and interesting.

G: Literally. [both laughing] Which is why, while watching this episode, I literally fucking lost it when this scene came up. I was like, "Sam is literally that guy I was talking to. He's literally that guy."

C: He really, really, really is. Also, Sam makes faces like, the whole time, right? Like, he's making faces that are supposed to convey like, "Oh, this is awkward because there's so much sexual tension going on."

G: [laughing] Noo.

C: "And I have to keep smiling weirdly at you and looking away, and like, jerking my face around." And it's like- bro. Stop.

G: He's doing the Jared Padalecki smile.

C: Yes.

G: You know what I mean? Like, he has this iconic thing that he does with his face when he acts with like, his lips, or whatever. [C laughs] And it's such quintessential Sam Winchester, and it looks so fucking funny this episode.

C: Yeah. He's such a loser. Like, Madison's actress is like, getting the like, "sort of shy 'cause you sort of like this guy" faces fine. Like, she's like, doing like, little smiles and looking away. He's like, twitching up a samba in this face. Yeah. Anyway.

G: Yeah, anyway, their conversation gets cut short, thankfully [laughs], by Dean calling Sam.

C: Dean's in a strip club and that's where Kurt is, so he's followed him there. And the whole time on the phone he's like, "Oh, yeah, I'm like, totally paying attention," but what he's paying attention to is the stripper. We don't actually see like, a shot of her, we just see a shot of like, [laughs] feet and high heels. Dean foot fetish confirmed.

G: So true. You know- [laughs]

C: Yeah?

G: You know that joke they make about like, "You know what they say about men who look at women's shoes?" [laughs]

C: What is that? Oh, that they're gay?

G: [laughs] Yeah. [both laughing]

C: So true.

G: I'm actually not sure if that's the punchline of that joke. I just have heard the first part of the joke. But I'm assuming it's a gay joke, because everything is a gay joke.

C: Yeah, yeah. Also, he hands her a $1, and yeah, I hope that he brought more than that $1.

C: Now we're back to Madison's place. And she tells Sam like, "Okay, I'm gonna go like, to bed now." And I think she's trying to get him to come with her, but [laughs] Sam’s like, sitting there like, stiff, like, hands on his thighs, looking forward, goes like, "Okay, yeah, well, I'll be here." [laughs] And-

G: Literally, Sam is like, "I cannot ruin the integrity of our investigation. [C laughs] I must sit here and pine in silence." He's such a nerd.

C: Sam says, like, "If you hear anything, and if you wake up, you should just call out," and he looks so awkward, and she just says, "Okay." And she just like, goes into her bedroom as Sam sighs a sigh of sexual frustration.

So Sam’s just sitting there, while Dean is outside of Kurt’s. And he starts hearing glass shattering upstairs, and the lights are off, so he runs up and he sees Kurt, like, super dead, super torn up and bitten. And a woman with dark hair over him. And she turns towards him and hisses, and it's Madison! Yes. Go girl.

G: Noo! It's Madison.

C: It is. Sorry, but also like, yes, kill.

G: Literally. kill this guy.

C: Yeah, so she like, runs Dean into like, a wall and he cuts her arm with his knife. And then she like, jumps out the window.

G: Yeah. So back in the apartment, Dean is now awake because he, like, fell unconscious when Madison knocked him over. And he's calling Sam and he's saying, like, “The werewolf knocked me out. It's Madison.” And Sam’s like, “No, it's not Madison, she was here the whole night," and he takes a peek at the bedroom, and she is there, and she looks like she hasn't moved. And Dean says, "Check her right arm below her elbow. I nicked her with a silver knife." So Sam goes to check, and Madison wakes up, and she's like, "Oh, where the hell are my pajamas?" And then she's like, "Sam?"

C: This is such a fucking terrible situation for her to be in, and he's just gonna make it so much worse.

G: I know!

Yeah, she's like, "I don't know what's going on. What's going on, Sam?" And then Sam, like, notices the nick on her arm, and he goes to the door. And Madison follows her and asks, "Where are you going?" And Sam is seen locking up the door. And then he says, "I'm not going anywhere."

C: God.

G: It's terrifying, honestly.

C: Right! She doesn't remember anything. She wakes up without her clothes on. There's this random guy in her house that she barely knows, and he's locking her in. Like, oh, god. Like, I think that sometimes it's okay to let werewolves kill people, even if you think they're doing it on purpose, just to prevent being creepy to women. [G laughs]

G: Literally. Shi-Long Lang would never do this. [both laughing] No bringing him up. No bringing him up.

C: We cut to Madison like, tied up in a chair with Sam standing in front of her, like, waving his fucking gun around. Jesus Christ. So yeah, she's crying and clearly scared, and she says, like, "I can't believe I fell for the whole like, 'I'm a cop' thing," and Sam says, "Well, I guess, neither of us are who we said we were, huh?" And yeah, she tells him like, "You're sick. You're imagining things. Monsters don't exist." And he keeps telling her to stop pretending, but she just keeps insisting that like, "I'm not a werewolf, like, that's not a thing. You know that." Sam’s like, “No,” and he, like, points to her scratch, like, I think, with his gun, and he's like, “Where did that come from?” And yeah, she just keeps crying and saying like, ”Please stop doing this. Don't do something you're going to regret.”

This is just such a bad situation. Sorry, Madison. I can't believe you sleep with this guy after this.

G: I know!

C: Like, I knew that they were going to sleep together, but I thought it was gonna happen like, last night, you know?

G: Before. Yeah.

C: Yeah, I was certain that it would have to happen before 'cause I was like, "It would be such a fucked up power dynamic if they slept together during a time when Sam knows he's gonna have to kill her or something." Which I guess isn't the situation, but it's still "they slept together after Sam like, made her probably terrified that he was gonna rape for like, several hours," so. Love that.

Yeah, so there's knocking at the door, and Dean comes in, being a little shit. And he's like, "Oh, how are you doing? My head feels great, by the way." 'Cause he thinks that she remembers throwing him across the room. And Sam pulls Dean into another room to talk and says, like, "I think that she has no idea what I'm talking about. Like, she doesn't really know she's changing." They really put the woman who doesn't know she's a ghost and the woman who doesn't know she's a werewolf back to back. [both laugh]

G: Yeah, for real.

C: Like, space it out a little bit!

Dean- okay, so Sam says, like, "Maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out." And Dean says, "Like a really hot Incredible Hulk." Okay.

G: Boo.

C: She's tied up and crying!

G: I mean, the Incredible Hulk is already hot.

C: [laughs] Yeah. First, that.

G: Number one. Number two, yes, she is tied up and crying. Like, come on, Dean.

C: This is not the time. I'm going to start straight Dean truthing because he said this. [G laughs] He doesn't think the Hulk is hot, and he's not attracted to men.

Yeah, he's like, "She killed her boss and her ex. Like, that doesn't sound like she was just being unconscious." And Sam’s like, “Yeah, but what if it was just some animal part of her brain that saw those guys and the cop as threats?” So true. And he tells Dean like, that there was something in her eyes.

G: [laughing] "What are you? The dog whisperer now?"

C: Oh, yeah, he says, "Are you the dog whisperer now?" Okay. Alright. Yeah, so-

G: Do you know the TV show The Ghost Whisperer?

C: No. I thought "whisperer" was used, for like, animals.

G: That was one of the very first- No, there's a TV show called Ghost Whisperer and it is like, probably the first TV show that my mom watched where I'm also allowed to watch it. And it's in the CW. 2005.

C: [laughing] Oh my god, no.

G: No it's not, it's not. ABC Studios. CBS. It's CBS.

C: Aw, just like Elementary!

G: And it's also 2005. It ran for five seasons and I think it whet my palette for supernatural-related stuff in my youth. Yeah. [laughs]

C: Yeah, that makes sense.

G: This is pre everything. Like, pre me watching TV shows by myself, I watched this with my mom. I highly recommend it, and by highly recommend it, I mean I don't remember anything, so if you watch it and it's bad, don't blame me. [C laughs]

C: Yeah, so-

G: But- wait. I said that because, when I was younger, I thought The Dog Whisperer was a reference to The Ghost Whisperer. [laughing] So like, I thought the TV show The Dog Whisperer was based on the- or like a spinoff of the TV show Ghost Whisperer [C laughing]. Yeah, which is incredibly funny. Like, they were like, "Step one: talk to ghosts. [both] Step two: talk to dogs."

C: Correct of them. Is Sam good with dogs?

G: I mean, he has a whole thing, where he, like, took care of a dog.

C: Well, first, he ran it over.

G: No, like, when he was 15, he took in a dog when he ran away.

C: Aww.

G: And then, when season 8 happened, [both laughing] he ran over a dog. The duality of man.

C: And that's character development. God. I can't believe- he ran over a fucking dog, and Amelia was like-

G: But he took it to vet!

C: Yeah, he took it to the vet, and Amelia was like, "You have to take in this dog now. I can't believe you're just gonna abandon this dog. There are no dog shelters for people who don't run over dogs to take in dogs. It's yours now." And then they stumbled into a relationship.

G: So true.

C: Women who sleep with Sam are so interesting. [laughs]

G: Like, as Sam said, they're... [both] unusual. They're... impressive. [laughs] Like.

C: Yeah, they are impressive. I could never.

So, yeah, Sam says that he sees something in Madison's eyes, like, she has no control over what she's doing. Dean is not having any of this because Dean's a dick. And he says, like, "Since she can't control it, even if she's telling the truth, it doesn't matter." Sam says like, “I'm not going to kill her if she has no idea what's happening.” And Dean says, "Sam, she's a monster. And you're feeling sorry for her?" Fuck off, Dean. And Sam says-

G: [laughing] Sam says, [both] "Maybe I understand her." [both laughing]

C: I just feel it's been a while since we've gotten mirrors that are this unsubtle, you know.

G: Sam literally said "She's just like me for real!" [both laughing]

C: Yeah. And, okay, I will say that for this episode, despite how incredibly unsubtle they are about the situation, I think that there are some good mirror moments that are actually touching or thought-provoking, but also, this line was just very funny. [laughs]

G: Yeah. I did not think that way of the thought-provoking nature of the parallels. I just thought it was like, so in your face, so I was like, "Eh, whatever." But I can see how it can be like, thought-provoking, especially like, right at the end. Yeah. We'll get to it when we get.

C: Sam goes like, “Look. Like, maybe there's some way that we can cure her 'cause Dad theorized that you could cure the werewolf if you kill the werewolf who bit you." So they're like, "Okay, we have to figure that out, then." And Sam realizes like, "Oh, I think I know who it was." So he goes back and asks Madison, who's still like, tied up and fucking miserable, when she was mugged. And she says it was about a month ago, she didn't see the guy. Sam asked if he bit her, and she says, "How did you know that?" So she says that it happened on the back of her neck. And Sam’s like, “Oh, don't worry, like, I'm putting my gun down, and I'm gonna go and check," but he doesn't even tell her he's gonna go and check, he just goes over and starts like, caressing her hair. Like, alright, dude. So yeah, we see a pretty bad bite, and Dean says, like, "Oh, that's just a love bite. Believe me, that could have been a lot worse." Like, nobody asked, Dean! Like, shut the fuck up! [G laughs]

G: Literally, Dean should just always shut the fuck up. Like, I think he's so- like, at the end of the episode when he's like, crying and shit [C laughs], like, it's good because he's silent. [both laughing] Literally, Dean should just be quiet all the time and have a single man tear fall down from his face and show emotion without a trace.

C: Yeah. Deans were not made to speak, they were made to be spoken to. [G laughs]

G: Yeah.

C: Yep. And Maddy reveals that this happened near Hunter's Point, where all the dead sex workers had turned up.

G: Yeah, so Sam and Dean go back to their conversation, and Dean says that they can't be sure that the werewolf that bit her is gonna be at Hunter's Point but Sam’s like, “It's worth a shot. It's the lunar cycle, like, the time's right. We need to find something to cure this woman." Eventually, they do agree that Dean is gonna go out and hunt for the werewolf while Sam stays and looks after Madison. Except Madison is likely also going to turn tonight, so Dean makes Sam promise that if something bad happens and she does turn, and worse comes to worst, Sam is gonna shoot her.

C: I love how they're like, "If she breaks her restraints" - which are one little rope around her hands - "you gotta kill her." [G laughs] Like, do they not have more rope? Or anything?

G: Yeah, anyway, Sam goes out and joins Madison again. And Madison is saying like, "Oh, please just untie me. Just let me go." And then Sam sits in front of her and says, "I know you're scared, and I know you don't believe me, but I'm doing this to help you. And when this is over, and when this all passes, I'm just going to be a bad memory, and you're going to live your life, and you'll never see me again, and you're going to be fine." And yeah, Madison is still crying-

C: This is the least reassuring thing ever.

G: Yeah, at some point he says, "The odds are against us, and it's probably not gonna work, and you're probably gonna fucking die because [both laughing] I'm gonna fucking kill you." Like, Sam! Sam!

C: Also, the like, "I know you don't believe me, but I'm doing this to help you" is like the creepiest shit ever-

G: Yeah, it sounds bad. It sounds bad.

C: - if you don't think werewolves are real and this guy tied you up.

G: Sam, have we considered that this is a bad look? [laughs] Have we considered this, Sam Winchester?

C: Oh, boy. Yeah, also Sam’s like, crying at this too. Like, shut up, Sam. This isn't about you. [laughs]

G: Literally hold in your tears, Sam. It's not about you.

C: Yeah. So we cut to Hunter's Point, and there's a woman who the transcript says is quote unquote "clearly a hooker." So yeah, they got the shoes from the box or whatever. Yeah, so- [sighs] again, I have a problem with Supernatural styling all their sex workers as like, fake blondes wearing like, fur coats. Whatever. Anyway, so she like, hears a howl, and she's nervous. Meanwhile, we see Madison's fingernails go into claws and she starts having fangs. And, obviously, she breaks loose because, like, it's one like, measly rope.

G: Yeah.

C: And she starts attacking Sam. Meanwhile, the werewolf is chasing down this woman. And Sam is like- he traps Madison inside of a room by like, moving a cabinet in front of it. Which works the whole night, so I don't see why this couldn't just be the long-term solution. And yah, so the world's about to kill the woman at Hunter's Point and then Dean goes like, "Hey!" and then shoots him three times in the chest. And it's revealed that the werewolf is Glen, still wearing his church shirt.

G: Still wearing his fabulous beard.

C: And the woman is obviously scared out of her mind and runs away. And Dean, who just doesn't know how to fucking shut up, yells like, after her, like, "Hey, don't mention it!" Like, okay, she was about to get killed by a fucking guy with fangs, and then another guy showed up with a gun. Like, I'm not gonna trust the guy with the gun either. Like, I'm running! [laughs]

G: Yeah, I'm just gonna run. Dude! Yeah, Dean's annoying.

C: Yeah.

G: [laughing] But we've already established this.

C: Uh-huh. So Glen is like, bloody and like, he starts like, turning back to his like, human form. And he's like, freaked out. He's going like, "Oh my god, where am I?" And he, like, sees that he's like, super dying, and he's going like, "Oh my god, help me. Help me, please." And yeah, Dean does not help, and he goes like, "Alright, just take it easy," and Glen just dies.

G: Yeah.

C: So this implies that every single werewolf does not remember what's up when they wake up.

G: No, I think it depends.

C: Okay.

G: 'Cause, like, I mean, we see later on there's werewolves that are literally just living their werewolf lives, right?

C: I mean, I don't know. I haven't them.

G: Oh, yeah. [laughs] Yeah, I literally forgot. But, you know, we have a beloved main character who's a werewolf. Do you know who?

C: Yeah. Yeah, does Garth remember what he does when he's in werewolf form?

G: I think so, yeah. I think he does, yeah.

C: Okay.

G: So, go Garth.

C: It pissed me off that Garth gets to live and that they find a werewolf cure for Claire in season 12, but here, they're just like, "It's too much work for us to build like, a reinforced concrete room for you to go into a few days a month, so let's just shoot you."

G: Yeah. I mean-

C: I feel like of all the creatures in Supernatural, werewolves are like, the thing with like, the easiest non-murder solution.

G: Yeah, 'cause it's not like they're like, all around, you know, all the time, quote "monsters." They only literally just show up at night at certain days of the month.

C: Yeah, like, they don't need to kill people to survive, I think is like, the main reason why- and they like, generally are in control of their faculties, except for occasionally. So like, it's dumb.

G: Yeah, vampires are like that too, I guess.

C: Yeah.

G: But those are like, the two main ones that are like, yeah. I guess at this point- Oh, yeah, because it's not like she's killing the guys to like, eat their heart and like etc etc. She's just hurting them because they're- because she's afraid of them.

C: Yeah.

G: Although there is a thing in later seasons when we hang out with Garth's family where they eat like, hearts of like, an animal, I think? Like, animal insides. I think at some point, they eat gizzard, which, like, you should literally just always eat that, though. [laughs] And I find it so funny that they were like, "Oh, we're eating gizzards," and it's like, "Literally, I ate gizzards last night." Like, come on, dude.

C: Yeah, yeah. I think the werewolf lore is pretty inconsistent. Because I'm pretty Madison's totally fine with like, eating normal food.

G: Yeah.

C: I feel like she would have mentioned if she was only capable of eating animal hearts now.

G: Yeah, she's going through her Santa Clarita diet phase [laughs].

C: Exactly.

So, yeah, okay. So some werewolves don't remember, but-

G: Maybe some do, and maybe it's complicated. I don't know. We'll get into it when we get into it in future episodes.

C: Uh-huh.

I just feel like with werewolves, it really rubs me the wrong way when like, they get killed because I feel like there's like, pretty clear mental health parallels to what the situation is, and yeah, I don't know. Eugh. Whatever. I have nothing more to say, just that I'm annoyed.

G: I think the most vile time that the Winchesters killed werewolves is- oh, no, these are vampires, actually. Like, there's just a couple of vampires like, drinking blood bags.

C: Oh, yeah, in "Last Holiday."

G: And then they just hop in and it's like, "Let's kill these vampires!" and it's like, come on, dude. Like, they don't even acknowledge that one as like, "Maybe this is wrong. Maybe we shouldn't be doing this." Like, when the technology that they had that allowed them to do that vanished, they were like, "Aw, man! What a waste!" [both laugh] And it's like, come on. You literally just killed innocent vampires, dude.

C: Yeah.

G: But yeah. Anyway, the next day, Madison wakes up. And she's in the room that Sam locked her in. And Sam opens the door and he says, like, "It should be over now, and you'll never see me again."

C: Also, there's a cut on his cheek. There's a cut on his cheek. It looks really good.

G: Yeah, there's a cut on his cheek. Yeah, there's a cut on his cheek. He says, "You'll never see me again," and Madison looks around, and the entire room is scratched up to fucking death. And this is when she realizes that like, "Oh, yeah, I do turn. And I am a werewolf, probably." And when she turns back to look at Sam again [C laughing], he's gone, like a ghost. He's literally gone. It's so annoying that Sam is like, "You'll never see me again." Like, first, this is not about you, Sam. Shut the fuck up. Second of all, like, stop being so dramatic! [laughs] This woman is having a very bad no good day, and you're sitting here like, "Hngh. You'll never... see me again." It's like, Sam, now is not the time for drama.

C: Sam’s just like that.

C: So we're out the car outside where Sam and Dean are like, staking out Madison's place. And Dean says, like, "it was sort of sad, actually, because Glenn had no clue what was going on." [G starts laughing]

G: Sorry, sorry.

C: I made promises that I intend to keep. [G laughing] Okay, he asks, "Why do you think he turned Madison instead of killing her?" Sam says, like, "Well, he seemed to have a thing for her." And Dean says, "Maybe his primal instinct did too. Maybe he was [sighs] looking for a little hot breeding action." [heavy breathing]

G: So true. [laughing]

C: So- [heavy breathing] yeah. So.

G: Moments in Supernatural that needs to be quoted without context. [C laughs]

C: Context barely helps.

So Dean goes like, "So, speaking of Madison..." And Sam goes like, “Ugh, whatever.” And Dean goes, like, "Don't 'whatever' me. You liked her! Like, maybe..." And Sam goes like, "Dean. No. She thought I was like, absolutely off the shits." And Dean says, like, "Well, you saved her life." [sighs] Right, you've talked about the dynamic of like, sleeping with someone whose life you just saved, right? Like, it's not-

G: Yeah.

C: It's not good. Right, so Sam says like, “She doesn't know that," and then Maddy appears at their window, and she- You know this episode is written by Sera Gamble because Maddy, at some moments, is clearly part of the Andreaverse. [both laugh] She just found out she was a werewolf, she was tied up and terrified and crying for hours-

G: She found out that she killed at least two people that she knows personally.

C: Three people including- yeah, and then a cop.

G: No, no, she knows personally- yeah. And a cop. [laughs] The cop's fine. [laughing]

C: Yeah. The cop takes one off, actually, so she really only killed one person, like, sins-wise.

G: [laughing] Literally.

C: Yeah, but she appears at the window. She's doing great. She's perky, she's like, super down to befriend these guys. She's like, "OMG, hi! Like, your car is kind of conspicuous. Like, why are you still here?" And they say, :Well, we just have to stay here to make sure that you don't turn tonight." Dean says, "So, you know, we're lurking." [laughs] So true. And Maddy's like, "I know that you guys just tied me up and made me cry for hours, but like, why don't we all hang out together, like, in my apartment?"

G: And they literally do.

C: The last time that happened, that did not go well for you, Maddy. Also, just- you know that if you do end up turning tonight and they're inside your apartment, they'll shoot you, right? Like- [laughs]

G: I mean, it's just. It makes sense that she would let them in, but for me, it doesn't make sense that she would be this friendly. Like, I think this is a time in your life where you would be in distress like never you've seen before, you know?

C: Yeah.

G: So like, the fact that she's like, just like how she was at the beginning of the episode is disconcerting.

C: Yeah.

G: They agree that they're all gonna hang out together until sunrise the next day, and they hang out. At some point [laughs], Maddy and Sam are like, sitting across each other, just staring into each other's souls. [both laughing] And Dean brings out a gun and puts it on the table, and they look at Dean, and Dean's like, "No, just continue what you're doing." And then they continue looking into each other's souls, like, what the fuck. Couldn't they have had like, a nice conversation at this point? Or like- why are they not talking? Like, just have a conversation about how nervous you are and how like, scared you are, and how much you feel guilty about potentially having murdered all those people, like, you know?

C: Yeah, because when Madison talks about that, like, when she lets them in, all she says, is like, "You were telling the truth. What you did, it was to help me." Like, the point-

G: This is not about them!

C: The point is to validate them for tying her up and scaring the shit out them!

G: [groans] This is not about Sam and Dean. This is about Maddy. And you are not giving her anything.

C: Oh my god.

G: Yeah. Anyway, at some point, the sun rises. [both laughing]

C: Can we make this shot the image for our episode?

G: [laughing] Yes. Literally, this is the image.

C: Do you want to describe it?

G: Wait. I'm gonna pull up the screenshot that you sent. [both laughing]

So it's Sam, Maddy, and Dean standing next to each other as they look out of the window and we see like, the reflection of a house where the sun is coming up, like, up the roof of the house. And it looks so fucking ridiculous. It looks like a very bad YA novel cover.

C: Yes.

G: Like, extremely bad. And it's extremely funny.

C: Yeah, it's clearly, like, a bad romance where she has to pick between these two men. [G laughs] And like, Dean's like, her long lost like, fiance who like, became a werewolf and also got lost at sea, and like, Sam's her current boyfriend, and she's right where Dean left her.

G: [laughs] Literally. And, obviously, she ends up with Sam at the end. Like, it's that kind of YA novel. But it's extremely funny.

C: [laughs] Yeah.

G: Anyway, Maddy is very happy that the thing worked, and she hugs Sam, and she's like, "Thank you so much!" And Sam’s like, “Oh- oh,” and then hugs her fully. And, you know, Dean is being an asshole in the back and being like [clears throat repeatedly]. And then Maddy's like, "Oh, heh-heh, thank you" to Dean. And Dean's like, "Okay. I'm going to go back to the hotel and watch some pay-per-view and something else. Bye-bye!" And he heads out.

C: Is pay-per-view just porn?

G: No.

C: Okay.

G: You can watch like, sports on pay-per-view. Do you think Dean is the type of guy to watch sports, though?

C: No.

G: Well, he watches wrestling. We know this for a fact.

C: Right. Which is basically porn.

G: Which is the gayest sport [laughs], yeah. So yeah. Good for him.

C: I guess I assumed he was saying this so he would sound like a sleaze so Sam would look better. And also as a, like, "Since I'm going to be watching porn in the motel, Sam can't come back for several hours!" You know?

G: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyway, Sam- [laughs]

C: Wait, did you mention Dean's fist-pump as he goes?

G: Yeah, yeah, and then Dean fist-pumps before he heads out. Which is like, so weird. I don't know, it's just so incredibly weird. But Maddy is standing there like, "Oh, he thinks he's so funny." [laughs] No, she says, "He thinks he's so smooth," and Sam’s like, “He means well, but..." And Madison’s like, “Oh, he means well, but he thinks you're gonna get laid, huh?" And Sam is like, "Look, after everything that happened," and Madison's like, "Yeah, after everything that happened, we can't possibly hook up now, right?" And Sam’s like, "Yeah, like, it's just, it's not a good look." [C laughing] And then they look at each other for a long period of time, and lunged at each other! And they started kissing and fucking [C laughing]. They head to her bed, they start fucking there. Crystal sent me some very choice screenshots from this scene. And then that's all that happens.

This scene was so incredibly funny to me because there's just so much kissing.

C: Yeah.

G: Like, why are they- at any single moment, they're kissing. And it's like, when Dean was with Cassie, right, like they kissed, and then they did other things.

C: That was a decently-shot sex scene. The Cassie one was a decently-shot sex scene, it wasn't like, gratuitous. We got the general gist of what was going on, and they seemed to like, be into each other.

G: Yeah.

C: She went for his nipple- very important. This is just like, 5 million different shots of mashing their mouths together at different angles. Like, I don't even know if they're kissing. They just look like they're bumping their faces together.

G: Yeah. There's a lot of shots of like, hands going down a back, you know. Shit like that.

C: It's so long.

G: Anyway, at some point I realized that she's gonna turn after they have sex, and I was like, "Oh my god, is Sam gonna chase after her with his dick out?" [C laughs]

C: Okay, how long was the sex scene? I wish I timed it. Because I remember like, sitting there for so long, being like, "How is this still going?" And I checked, and there were eight minutes left in the episode, and I was like, "Literally, if the rest of these eight minutes were just more kissing scenes at different angles, I would not even be surprised at this point."

G: [laughs] No, I don't think it's that long. I think it has a decent duration, as a sex scene. It's just the way they shot it, it was like, quite funny. I don't know. I thought it was funny because it really was just like, so much kissing at all times. Like, at some point you're like, "They're not even having sex, they're just kissing while naked." So true, though.

C: Yeah.

G: Eventually, they're like, asleep on the bed, and Sam is like, lying down, and Maddy is right beside him, like, on his arm and stuff.

C: Yeah, and you know how they always have a specific blanket setup so that you don't see anything untoward on PG TV?

G: Yeah.

C: it's so funny because okay, usually they it at chest level, but here, Maddy is on her side so she can cover up her boobs. And the blanket's at hip level, and Sam’s hand is literally on the blanket like he's pulling it up, like he's holding it above his dick. [laughs] Good for him.

G: This is what I'm wondering. When Maddy turned, was she naked?

C: Right, because when we see her again she's wearing like, a shirt that doesn't seem to fit her-

G: Yeah.

C: So I feel like, once she turned back, she was like, naked, which is like, a terrifying position to be in.

G: Yeah. Anyway, Sam wakes up and he starts- he sees Maddy like, turned and in the window, about to jump out, and he chases after her with his dick out [both laugh], but he's not able to get her. And he dresses up, goes to the motel room Dean is staying in, knocks the shit out of it, and goes, "Dean. She... she turned." And she did.

C: Yep.

C: So they exit the motel, and Sam says that he called Bobby, and he doesn't know anything except that it's common knowledge in the lore that John's theory is absolute bullshit. [laughs]

G: Yeah. They literally should have just consulted Bobby from the ge- go.

C: Yeah. So yeah, killing the werewolf who turned you does nothing and everyone says it's impossible to reverse this. Dean is like, "How come she didn't turn-"

G: Wait. In the transcript, it says that "while this is happening, Sam and Dean are quietly coming down the steps of the Chinese Sea Motel."

C: Oh god, is that the name of the motel?

G: It's West Philippine Sea! [laughs] That's my hot take of the day, and by hot take, I mean political opinion.

C: Yeah, you're right.

G: It's not South China Sea, it's West Philippine Sea. Boo!

C: Yeah, you're right, I agree.

G: We should rename this motel to West Philippine Sea. [laughs]

C: Correct. We will call them after this.

So Dean was like, "How come she didn't turn when we were with her?" And that's a very good question, and the fact that they don't go down that alley-

G: They answer it.

C: Do they say that she has to be asleep?

G: Yeah.

C: Okay. Drink coffee for a few days! Like, you don't have to kill her!

G: Yeah, I mean, I think really, the "lock her in a room for a couple of days of the month" make sense.

C: Yeah. And the sleep thing, like, I don't know. It's so- also like, okay, and you only turn at night, right? You don't turn during the day.

G: Yeah. So just be nocturnal.

C: Yeah, just like, have her work, like, the night shifts. Like, she can switch careers. Like, it's gonna be hard, but it's better than dying!

G: Yeah. Literally.

C: It's just- there's so many points in this episode where they bring up a potential-

G: - solution, and it's just, "No, no, no."

C: - "Nah, it's too hard."

G: [laughing] Imagine if they were like, "Maddy, the solution to your lycanthropy is that you should become a worker of the night shift," and she's like, "Nah, I'd rather die." [both laughing]

C: Yeah, yeah, that would be very good. I just- we'll get to it later, when they're like, "We tried everything!" And what they did was read a book for two hours [laughs].

G: Yeah, like, they literally called Bobby, and that's all they did.

C: Yeah, they were like, "We've consulted every source!" Every source about werewolves? In the entire world? From every culture? [laughs] You did that?

G: "From all societies and cultures. [C laughs] And we found nothing." Like, okay Dean.

C: Oh my god. I'm so fucking sick of these guys. They just didn't want to put the effort in.

G: They literally didn't want to put the effort in. Like, that's for real.

C: Yeah.

So Sam goes, like, “We have to find some way to help her, like, there's gotta be some legend that we missed.” And Dean’s like, "Well, don't you think someone we know would've known it then?" You know two people, Dean.

G: Yeah, it's just- I mean, we've gotten into it, but this entire conversation is so fucking annoying. Yeah, Dean is just so convinced that she needs to die.

C: Right.

G: And Sam is so convinced that they need to find a cure. And I wish they just stuck it out with Sam a little bit longer.

C: Uh-huh. Yeah, 'cause I feel like the point is like, "Oh, look how sad Sam is against the inevitability that a monster is a monster." Literally just put her in the basement. Like, it's not that hard.

G: Literally, at some point, Dean says, like, "She's a sweet girl, but inside her there's something-" and Sam says, "Evil?" And Dean's like, "Yeah." And Sam says, like, "That's what they say about me, Dean. But you won't kill me. But her? You're just going to blow her away?" And like, there is truth to that, right?

C: Yeah.

G: Like, with Sam, it's always like, "It's complex, it's gray areas, it's complicated." And, to be fair, like, Sam hasn't really done anything wrong at this point, so I get it. Like, he hasn't murdered anyone of his own volition at this point, aside from when he was possessed, but like, that's not really him. But you can argue the same thing-

C: Yeah, this isn't really Maddy.

G: - about Maddy. Like, it's not her. [sighs] Let's just proceed. And then maybe we can talk about it when we're talking about our final thoughts of the episode.

C: Yeah, okay.

So yeah, the conversation that you said happened-

G: And the Impala.

C: Yeah, I think, which is a good way to establish how like, later on, Maddy's sort of the Sam and Sam's sort of the Dean of the situation. Like, 'cause "Born Under a Bad Sign" happened pretty recently. Yeah, so they get a call from Maddy, and she's in a phone booth, and she's wearing like, this shirt that doesn't fit her, so we assume that, like, she woke up naked and had to find clothes, which sucks. And yeah, she says, like, "I don't know where I am." And she tells Sam the street signs nearby, and they go to get her.

G: So eventually, they arrive at Madison's apartment again, and Madison is saying that she doesn't remember anything and and she probably killed someone last night. And Dean literally is like, "Yeah." [laughs] No, he says, "There's no way to know yet." And then Madison is like, "Is there anything that we can do to make me stop and to make it go away?" And this is what we were saying earlier, like, Sam’s like, “We'll find a way, we'll find a way." And Dean's like, "We searched everything! We did everything we could!" and they literally did not.

C: [laughs] They called one guy.

G: They literally called one guy. And then at some point, like, Sam stands up out of frustration and walks away. And then Dean says, like, "We could lock you up at night, but you'll probably escape." Like, then do a better job at locking her up!

C: This is like, the fucking cheapest excuse ever. Like, "Oh, you got away last time when we used one piece of rope to tie you, and also you didn't even kill anyone last time you escaped your ropes 'cause Sam just put a cabinet in front of your door." [rusty beeping sounds]

G: What's that?

C: Oh. It's the fire alarm! [G laughing]

G: Okay, now that your alarm has stopped, where are we in the episode?

C: Oh, yeah, Dean was saying, like, "Oh, we could tie you up, but you'll escape!"

G: Yeah. Madison realizes the situation that she's in, and that there's no solution other than [whispered] death! So she picks up the gun and starts forcing it on Sam, and starts saying like, "I need you to do it. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you." And, obviously, like, Sam is very much upset by this. Like, he doesn't want to shoot this girl. And they keep on doing this thing where-

C: Yeah, very strong parallels to "Born Under a Bad Sign."

G: Yeah, like, Madison is saying like, "I don't want to die, but I don't want to live like this too. Like, this is the way that you can save me." Blah blah blah. But, you know, like you said earlier, there's like, some parallels to like, mental health blah blah blah, with the werewolf thing. And I don't think it's that straightforward, but this scene really did feel like, just like, a depression suicide situation, and it made me feel uncomfortable. But I get what they were going for.

C: Don't love it, right.

And, obviously, the use of the word "save" is very loaded because it's, you know, the Dean and Sam word for-

G: Yeah.

C: Oh, god. It just pisses me off so much that like, Sam points out Dean is gonna do anything to try to save him, but he's like, "Eh, I don't want to put a cabinet in front of Maddy's door sometimes, so let's just kill her."

G: Yeah. Anyway, Dean walks over to Maddy and takes the gun from her, the implication being like, "I'll do the shooting. Sam, you can leave." So Sam walks to the other room, and he's crying now, and we get like, a lot of the iconic shots from this episode from this scene onwards.

C: Yep.

G: [laughing] Unfortunately, we will not be using any of them for the cover, because we have already established that the sunrising cover YA novel is what we're going for. [C laughs] But Dean goes up to Sam and says, "I'm sorry." And Sam says, "No, you're right. She's right." And Dean says, "You don't have to do this. I'll do it for you. I got this one, I'll do it." And Sam says, "No, she asked me to do it, so I will." He takes the gun, goes to the room, and we see his crying face. And then we pan to Dean, who has one single tear falling down his face [C laughs]. And we hear the shot. Dean flinches, and the episode ends.

C: Yeah. It was a good move to end like, right on the gunshot.

G: Yeah. I really like the fact that Dean took the gun. I like the fact that he was like, "This doesn't have to be your responsibility. This can be on me." Because it's one of those things, right, where like, Dean, at this point, is still, like, he had his entire life protecting Sam. And he's trying to protect Sam from this trauma of killing this girl. Or at least like, shoulder some of the burden of it. And I like that Sam says, basically, like, "I don't need your protection from this one, because no matter what, it's still going to be miserable for me anyway, so might as well be the one who does it." The fact that Dean volunteered got to me. This is what I was saying earlier, that like, there's some scenes in this episode that really did evoke some emotions out of me. It's this scene, when Dean took the gun. I was like, "Oh, okay, I get it."

C: Well, I didn't give a shit about that scene [both laughing], but, good for you. The main thing I just liked were the "Born Under a Bad Sign" parallels.

G: Parallels, yeah.

C: And just, Sam like, really pointing out Dean's hypocrisy in being down to kill any monster except for Sam. What I was really pissed about is how like, this whole ending is first, all of about Sam and all about Dean. Like, when Sam leaves the room, we should have stayed on Maddy for at least a second, you know, before we went Sam, like, sobbing?

G: Yeah! Like, when Dean goes out, we should have stayed on Maddy. 'Cause the whole time, she's like, trying to keep a straight face. Like, I would have wanted her to see like, actually crumple, you know?

C: Yeah.

G: Her face to actually be like, "Oh, shit, she's sobbing now."

C: Yeah. But I guess they don't want to do that, because they don't want you to-

G: Care about her?

C: - question the necessity of her death. The unnecessary necessity of her death. And also, I think it's because in this like, "Born Under a Bad Sign" situation, Sam is the Dean and Maddy is the Sam, and this whole season they've proved that-

G: They care about Dean, yeah.

C: - the person that they're more interested- yeah, they're more interested in the like, psychology of the person who has to kill the monster, like, over the psychology of the person who fears they're becoming the monster and wants to die to like, prevent further harm. And that annoys me because I think that the Sams of this world deserve more time on screen.

G: Yeah. So overall, the entire episode, what's your valence? Positive, negative..

C: I [laughs] had a really good time watching the earlier bits that were hilarious [G laughs]. I think that the ending is quite powerful, just the like, cutting to credits on the gunshot, it was just a good call, because I feel like a lot of episodes like this, they would try to have a wrap-up scene, where they like, make fun of the situation or make light of the situation, so-

G: Yeah, yeah, like Dean driving off and being like, "Isn't it so funny that you fucked a werewolf?" [laughing]

C: Yeah, exactly! I can imagine that. Jesus. Right, so those were the good bits, but that is all heavily overshadowed by how annoyed I am about how unnecessary it was to kill her.

G: I would say this episode is, at the beginning, so bad it's good.

C: [laughs] Yeah.

G: It's so bad it turns right around to being the most entertaining thing I've ever seen in this podcast. It was genuinely hilarious. And then towards the end it's like, you know, the other shoe is dropping and you're like, "Oh, okay." It felt like they're trying to make points and like, some of the points hit, but the other points are like, "Ugh, whatever. Who cares?" So yeah, I think this is like- people would remember this episode for the sad parts, but I think the absolutely hilarious beginning should also be remembered.

C: Yep. Big agree.

G: Yeah.

So, Best Line/Worst Line. My worst line is "what a bitch." [both laughing] Literally.

C: That was soo funny.

G: You know what? I'll have another worst line, unless you want to take it.

C: Go ahead.

G: You're- what did he say? You're-

C: Unusual.

G: "You're unusual." I'll put that as my worst line as well. [laughing] And by worst line, I mean it's also my best line [C laughing], because it's incredibly funny and it made me scream.

C: Yeah. For worst line, I'm gonna go with Dean saying "We scoured every source. There's just no cure." Ugh! [G laughs]

G: What's your best line?

C: Best line. Hm. That's harder. I feel like every line here that, like, could be hashtag deep is cheapened by how unsubtle the situation is.

G: Yeah.

C: Okay, think I'm gonna go with like, "I don't want to die. I don't. But I can't live like this. This is the way you can save me." Because I mean, I totally disagree with the sentiment [G laughs], but it was one of the subtler ways that they called back to the Sam parallelism and I feel like it was emotionally effective in the moment.

G: Yeah. Okay. IMDB rating.

C: Oh, wait, what was- oh, your best line is "You're unusual," okay.

G: [laughs] Yeah. What's your IMDB rating?

C: I think this one's high.

G: I'm sure this one's high.

C: I'm sure some people are just gonna tank it because of the sex scene awkwardness, and they're right.

G: No, I don't think so. I think this is a solid 8.6 in the eyes of the general public. Or like, at least the people who rate things on IMDB.

C: Oh, I was actually gonna go higher, I think I was gonna go like, 8.8.

G: Okay, so 8.6 and 8.8. Let's see.

[gasps] We're right in the middle of it! It's an 8.7.

C: Oh! 8.7?

G: Yeah.

C: Good for us.

G: Let's see what people have been saying. "Heartbreaking." "The episodes with heart." "Life is not a fairy tale." "This episode made me cry. There was so much raw emotion." [laughs] So true. And by "so true," I mean, not at all, but sure.

C: Someone just- someone called the episode sexy.

G: Noo! Sam is just-

C: Literally, I wrote down while watching the scene, like, "This could be a PSA for like, why I should remain a virgin." [G laughs] Like-

G: "Sam's sex style-"

C: This is gonna put off my first time by like, a year, at least.

G: This review is titled "Sam's sex style, revealed." [C laughs] "We finally get to see Sam getting some, and he's rough. And awesome!" [C screams]

C: The thing is, this is consistent. Like, Sam’s face before they lunge at each other is like, his face before he and Ruby start making out in "I Know What You Did Last Summer." Like, I think he does have a very specific sex style. And it's awes-! [laughs] God, no.

G: Wait, the one I told you about, it says, "To the guy who says this is his wife's favorite episode, no freaking wondering, dude! Oh, yeah, the story isn't too bad either." [laughing] And then you scroll down, and one of the reviews says-

C: Wait, I can't hear what you're saying, you're laughing too hard.

G: [laughing] No, in the review above it, says, like, "To guy who says this is my wife's favorite episode, no wonder," referring to the sex scene. And then you scroll down a little bit and the review is "this is my wife's favorite episode." [both laughing]

C: Yeah. "Another girl dies, and of course Sam was in love. I hate seeing that, especially after the series premiere what happened to Jessica. I don't know how much more the writers can put him through."

G: [laughing] So true.

C: He's gonna be tortured for 100 years.

G: This one says, "Complete garbage. Sera Gamble has hit an absolute low in regards to writing for this episode. Sorry!" [both laughing]

C: Yeah, exactly. "Yeah, there's really no halfway point in regards to providing an alternative lifestyle for the lycanthrope such as, I don't know, installing a steel cage. Simply stated that she'd escape doesn't make it so." Yeah, say that.

C: The one titled sad face says that their theory as to why people dislike this- Okay, first, they said that they think that people dislike "Route 666" because the Samgirls don't like watching a Dean sex scene, and then they said that they, as a Deangirl, didn't like this episode because they didn't like watching a Sam sex scene "out of a fangirlish jealousy."

G: So, like, their point is if you're a Samgirl, you don't want to see the Sam sex scenes?

C: No, other way around. You're jealous that Dean gets a sex scene in "Route 666," and then the Dean girls are uncomfortable that Sam gets a sex scene in "Heart." That's their theory.

G: Ohh. I thought it was like, "The Dean girls don't like it when Dean has sex with other women and Samgirls don't like it when Sam has sex with other women." Literally.

C: Oh, yeah, that makes sense.

G: I cannot get into the mind of like, a Winchester fucking-

C: Fucker?

G: Yeah. [laughs] A winchesterfucker69. I cannot get into their head. [C laughs]

C: Yeah, me neither. Which is why you're not Cascoded, I guess. But, I mean, I think I'm Cascoded and I don't get the Dean thing at all either, so who knows.

G: Wait, I just realized that [laughing] me saying that I don't get winchesterfuckers69 is very out of character for me regarding my previous conversations we've had in the podcast.

C: "He's so pogi!" [G laughing]

G: Your pronunciation of pogi is so good.

C: Oh, god, how do you say it?

G: No, it's genuinely good. Like you're genuinely-

C: Oh, that wasn't sarcastic, okay. Thank you.

G: Yeah. [laughs]

Anyway, that's it for this episode of Busty Asian Beauties. Next week, we will be discussing Season 2, Episode 18: "Hollywood Babylon"! Leave us a rating or a review wherever you get your podcasts.

C: Follow us on social media! We are on Twitter at twitter.com/BeautiesPodcast and on Tumblr at bustyasianbeautiespod.tumblr.com. Our official tag is #BABPod, B-A-B-POD. And thank you to everyone who's donated to our Ko-Fi at ko-fi.com/bustyasianbeautiespod.

G: You can email us any feedback, comments, or inquiries at [email protected]. See you guys next time! Buh-bye!

C: Bye!

[guitar music]

C: Yeah, what's the- do you know the post that I'm talking about? The one that's like, "Gonna start posting about Friends like it's Supernatural?"

G: [laughs] Yeah, and then-

C: I don't remember- do you know the phrasing?

G: Yeah, I do. "Gonna start posting about Friends-" and then "They were in love here" and it's the picture of the two guys from Friends?

C: Yeah, but the person who added the reblog? Let me find it.

G: No, I don't remember.

C: Oh my god. Why can't- it's so impossible to look up a fucking Tumblr post on Google.

G: On Tumblr. Literally anything.

C: Ugh. It doesn't matter, I guess. [G laughs]

G: Okay.

C: Ugh, oh my god. I do wanna find it though. [laughs] Do you want to take over while I try to find this post that isn't even funny?

G: [laughs] Just leave it be, Crystal!

C: Okay.

G: What is it about?

C: So it's like the picture of two guys from Friends sitting together, oh my god, why- it keeps showing up in results, but it's-

G: It's the entire blog?

C: Yeah, every time I try to click on- yeah. Oh my god, this is gonna bother me forever and I'm gonna ruin the whole podcast episode over a post that isn't even funny.

Okay, okay. I'm giving up. I am.

[bleeping sound]

[laughing] Wait, okay, sorry, I found the post.

G: Oh, god. No, what is it?

C: It's not even funny! Okay, so it's the "Gonna start posting about Friends like it's Supernatural," and then a photo of two guys from Friends sitting on couches next to each other, captioned "They were in love here." And then somebody reblogged with the tags, "honestly homie on the left looks clenched down to the marrow with barely-restrained lust." Anyway, that's Sam.

G: [laughing] This is so unfunny! You know what?

C: It's not funny. Just cut it out. [G still laughing] Just cut it out. Let's go back to the episode.

G: [laughing] Wait. I find this incredibly funny, but for like, the most ridiculous reasons.

#transcript

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